The Understanding
by crystalswolf
Summary: Koss and family start a new life on Earth. -Complete-
1. The Story

Title: The Understanding

Series: Enterprise

Rating: PG

Warning: This is TnT but if alternative marital situations offend, do not read!!!

Summary: Reposting. Koss and family start a new life on Earth.

Note: This is loosely based on "The Good That Men Do", six years later. Thank you DinahD for your help and shrewd advice. I'm ready ;)

Disclaimer: Of course, Star Trek characters do not belong to me.

***

In a room aboard a small Vulcan transport vessel, two beds were neatly made, lacking a single wrinkle among them. T'Pol's luggage lay open on one bed as she emptied belongings from the shelves and drawers.

The bed to her left held a smaller case; tiny fingers were filling it with meticulously folded belongings.

"T'Mir, be sure not to pack your traveling robes," Koss reminded his small daughter as he entered their temporary quarters.

"Yes, Father," she held the last folded article of clothing that was once the foundation of a rather tall, neat pile. She did not place it in her luggage but rather continued to hold it as her father neared.

"Most efficient, Little One," he complimented her, after a glance over the well-made bed. In her suitcase, items were folded to maximize the amount of space available, a testament to her high aptitude for spatial reasoning.

The small child did not smile in return. Nonetheless, she beamed with pride. Then she carried her folded traveling robes to the bathroom to change her clothes. Chest puffed and head high, she strutted across the floor to the bathroom. Improper among other Vulcans, her parents indulged the behavior privately.

As a Vulcan, it was never acceptable to display emotions. They were to be buried at all times, but he allowed for the slightest curl at the corners of his mouth. This was his family, and there was only his mate in the room to possibly see it. When he caught her wide eyes staring with hidden amusement, he was certain she had not missed his barely concealed display of amusement.

Koss held out his hand with the first two fingers extended and waited. T'Pol immediately held her first two extended fingers to meet his, forming an "x" shape between them. This was the only public display of affection Vulcan couples would ever show openly, and it made Koss recall a time when she would have rebuffed his gesture without further consideration.

But they had been married for six Earth years now, and they'd comfortably settled into their almost-traditional Vulcan life. "We will soon arrive and our cargo is secure," he told her as their fingers separated.

"Are you...," he paused as he considered the words. Unfortunately, in such a situation there were no appropriate words for the occasion, so he settled with, "... prepared?"

His mate's typically piercing eyes were now unfocused, and he sensed her agitation. She remained silent.

When T'Mir exited the bathroom, she was dressed in her travel wear. The clothes she'd just worn were neatly folded in her arms. She packed the clothes in her small case, closed and locked her luggage, and sat quietly on her bed.

Somewhere in the bathroom, she'd lost the pride and excitement she'd had going in. As she sat on her bed, she stared at the opposite wall. This was not the curious, questioning child her parents knew, the child who was ready to shun typical Vulcan etiquette and speak her mind. She always spoke her mind.

They were moving to Earth. Her mother wanted to continue a career in Starfleet, at least that was their official reason. But Koss was certain that there was something else that weighed heavily on the child's mind.

Always eager for their annual visit to Earth, T'Mir looked forward to her disagreements with "Uncle Jon." Even though she'd never suggested calling him anything else, she constantly asked T'Pol's former captain to explain how he could be her uncle. And when she thought no one was around to hear her, she would giggle when he joked, "Because I'm the only one qualified to be the uncle of someone so cute."

But her favorite visit, Koss could tell, was with a human family that welcomed her as a family member. The Tuckers showered her with gifts, introducing her to extended family members as their honorary grandchild. They doted on her, just as any loving grandparents would.

Koss sat next to his child on the bed. "You do not seem yourself, Little One," he said. "Does our relocation concern you?" T'Mir looked at her father and shook her head but said nothing. Her lack of words at least gave him a hint as to what she did not want to discuss.

"All will be well, Little One."

"This visit is unlike others," her voice cracked, a sign of her unskilled emotional control. "Will he approve of me?"

"Who would not, Little One?" But the simple statement was not enough to pry the concerned look from her face.

Although he'd identified her anxiety, Koss could not explain why it was unfounded. Unfortunately, it was not yet his place to say so. He pressed his hand gently to the back of her head. She'd always had trouble controlling her emotions, far more than other Vulcan children.

Flashing orange lights in one corner of the ceiling and a calm warbling sound informed the ship's passengers of the transport vessel's arrival to Earth. Koss nodded to T'Pol and she nodded in response. It was time to make their way to the exit as quickly as possible.

Carrying their luggage into the interplanetary port from their ship, Koss would soon have to inquire about their cargo, but he did not want to miss this moment.

Standing among the large assembly of Vulcans, sprinkled with a few other species waiting to greet the new arrivals, was a Vulcan man standing in the robes of an honored diplomat. His hair was cut shorter than the typical style of Vulcan men. His eyes met those of Koss and T'Pol, and they silently made their way to an empty corner of the large entranceway, with T'Mir following slowly behind them.

"It is most agreeable to see you," T'Pol held two fingers out to the stranger as Koss watched quietly. It was best he allow them their time.

The Vulcan male connected his fingers to hers, creating the intimate "x" shape and their eyes closed. Koss knew they were connecting through their bond, intimacy for no one but the two.

After a few moments their fingers turned upward and connected by the tips creating a triangular arch. Their eyes opened, and when they searched for Koss, he felt the pull of the bond.

He touched the tips of his two fingers to theirs, forming a three-sided pyramid and again their eyes closed. This time Koss closed his eyes as well and felt the minds of his mates touch his.

"Thank you, Koss. I have missed them." He felt the volatile human emotions wash over him as they accompanied the thought.

It had been over six Earth years ago since their arrangement when an unexpected pregnancy brought them together. The man, T'Pol's bonded, had fathered the child, but he could not stay with her to raise T'Mir. Both had agreed to ask Koss to enter into a triple marriage.

His original reason for accepting was to secure a mate for his pon farr. When, over the years, he was able to join in the telepathic bond between T'Pol and the human, he could no longer hide his feelings. He had loved T'Pol since they were young and betrothed.

Her refusal of their marriage years ago had hurt him and more insulting, she had chosen a human. And yet here they were, three mates brought together to raise a very unique child, that he'd come to view as his own. There was an understanding between him and the human of mutual respect and acceptance, sharing their love for one Vulcan woman as well.

Now the third member of their marriage, no longer kept away because of pressing obligations, could now spend his life with his family. For a time Koss had feared this moment, worried that his mates would not require his presence. Would they ask for a divorce?

Their bond now allayed his deeply hidden fears as he felt the affection of his mates.

Although he and his human mate would not experience sexual contact – neither had a preference for it – a strong connection had formed over the years, a kind of brotherhood.

"You must speak with her." Koss shared his thought before they agreed to separate.

T'Mir watched her parents as all three turned to look at her. The father she could not remember, the one who had not seen her since the day she was born, was most peculiar. His eyes were a strange color for a Vulcan. They were blue like hers. But what interested her most was not their color, but the moisture welling in them.

Biting her lip, a nervous habit many Vulcans frowned upon, T'Mir drew closer to her parent, as he knelt at her level. Her finger reached to catch a tear as it left his eye then studied the moisture on her finger.

She analyzed his face, recognizing typical Vulcan characteristics. Some were slightly more unusual than others, and she considered them for a moment before whispering her secret in his pointy, altered human ear: "I cry too."

"I know," he whispered back, a smile curling his lips. "You get that from me."


	2. Mother : T'Pol's Story  pt1

Summary: I'm going with the idea that there are "three sides to every story". In this case there are four sides, T'Pol, Trip, Koss, and the truth. The truth was the first chapter (for the most part). This chapter is T'Pol's and next will be Trip's.

A/N: This is a monster of a chapter that had to be broken into four parts for easier reading. I'm not used to writing such a large chapter (and I'm sure it will show) but thanks to a couple of very awesome, helpful angels, Dinah & Honeybee, I was at least able to keep my thoughts somewhat on track for this beast.

Warning: This is still a marriage of three individuals in what would be considered a "V" type relationship (thanks Honeybee).

* * *

_**November 3, 2161. Now.**_ T'Pol trudged from her desk to one of the two doors of the home office. Her feet felt leaden, and it took more effort to lift them with each step.

Time was passing, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Walking back to her desk, she checked the chronometer displayed on her computer console. It was the fourth time she'd checked it in the last half an hour. Would she have enough time?

Again, her feet plodded toward the hallway entrance, her hands leaned against the deep red-colored wood of the door for support as she glanced into the hall. Just as she'd expected, nothing had changed and she returned to the office.

She leaned on the fully opened door, pressing her back against the wood to steady herself. Pushing herself away, she walked back to her desk. For a distraction, she sat at her console to check for the latest updates to the Vulcan science databases. There was one area of research she was particularly interested in; she typed "Vulcan-Human Hybrid."

The list of discoveries scrolled down the screen, with the most recent at the top. The bio-records of T'Pol's cloned daughter proved that such a child could be born and logic required preparation for that inevitability.

Although her people found the concept distasteful, they could not deny that Elizabeth might only be the first of other similar children— children who would be born naturally and not just cultivated.

She scanned the titles: "Theories of Vulcan-Human Genetic Compatibility, Consulting Medical Expert, Phlox; Dominant and Recessive Phenotypes of Interspecies Offspring, Consulting Medical Expert, Phlox..."

T'Pol continued to read the latest advances. She physically struggled to suppress a smile at the thought that a particular Denobulan doctor was almost guaranteed to be at the heart of any advancement in this research. Although her people consulted the doctor for his first hand experience with Elizabeth, they were unaware that he was also privy to five years of data collected from a living, thriving hybrid. This, above all, gave him a greater advantage in the research.

Phlox, long-time friend and most trusted physician, had been T'Mir's doctor since before she was born. And every year for the last five years when Enterprise returned to Earth, T'Pol and family traveled to meet with Phlox for T'Mir's annual physical.

Ironically, for five years her people were unaware that a child of both worlds had lived among them as a full Vulcan.

Stronger than humans her age and more willful than Vulcans her age, T'Pol's daughter was living proof that a child such as her was not inconceivable. T'Pol believed the name she had chosen for her daughter was appropriate.

T'Mir, her second maternal foremother and one of the first Vulcans to make contact with humans, had returned to her homeworld with a radically different perspective of humans. Once she had considered the species primitive, strange, and barbarous, but her perspective transformed into one of great respect.

The new opinion of the species eventually influenced her to persuade the Vulcan Science Directorate to increase their study of what they considered a rather insignificant world.

Her reasoning was based on an almost prophetic assertion that human passion and resourcefulness would, one day, inevitably entwine both species. It was fitting that T'Mir's descendant, her namesake, was a thriving realization of her words.

As T'Pol continued to scroll down the list, her hand began to shake against the controls. Holding her unstable wrist with her other hand, T'Pol leaned back in her chair. Time was running out quickly.

She inhaled deeply then held her breath to feel the typical flutter of her heartbeat. After exhaling, she glanced around the office, looking for something to focus her mind.

The desk against the wall to her left belonged to Trip. Not in disarray by most standards, it seemed so when compared to the utilitarian arrangement of her desk and the one that belonged to Koss against the right wall.

All three desks did have one thing in common. Prominently displayed on each was a framed drawing. A unique picture, hand-drawn by T'Mir for each parent, told a story that her youth and full-Vulcan upbringing would not allow her to say openly.

In Trip's picture, T'Mir had drawn the shape of a man sitting with a hint of a smile on his face as a girl whispered something in his ear, her hand hiding her mouth. T'Pol noticed that, since their reunion, father and daughter always had their secrets.

The picture she drew for Koss was much simpler with a man and child walking in the desert under two suns. It immediately reminded T'Pol of the walks the two would take on Vulcan.

Her picture was a bit more difficult to comprehend until T'Mir explained what it was. At first it looked like a stretched figure hovering over a girl menacingly. When T'Mir explained that it was T'Pol protecting T'Mir from any harm, T'Pol thanked her and walked away.

She didn't allow her daughter to see how she pressed the paper close to her heart before placing it in her nightstand drawer, until it could be framed.

Thinking about her family, T'Pol's mind wandered...

..._**March 5, 2155**_. T'Pol sat at a corner table in a little, nondescript bar. Lured into the establishment by a paper sign taped to the old-styled, nine-pane windows, advertising a jazz band scheduled to play that night.

T'Pol chose a table in one of the darker corners of the bar. A dark corner of this establishment, which was hidden along a less traveled side street, was the perfect place for her to be alone.

Quietly watching the musicians take their places on stage, she was keenly interested in the double bass an older gentleman pulled from a case. The large size and its ability to create deep sounds reminded her of a Vulcan eestram and the fine concert she had once attended.

It was when T'Pol and Trip had entombed their daughter, Elizabeth, near the resting place of T'Pol's mother and Enterprise had recently returned to Vulcan for its two grieving crewmembers.

The eestram songs spoke to her on a very basic level that she was woefully unprepared for as it forced to the surface memories and the suppressed emotions attached to them.

As a young student, her path was forever altered because of one meeting with a remarkable Vulcan woman. That path led her to Earth, to Enterprise, and eventually to a human male named Charles Tucker III. Trip.

She remembered the beginning of their intimate relationship and the passion he stirred in her. It reminded T'Pol of the first time they made love, and her heart fluttered with the memory.

The first time she and Trip saw their daughter, cloned from their stolen DNA. A connection between T'Pol and her daughter had formed instantly, regardless of how the child had come into being.

The memory of her daughter's life fading moment by moment until there was nothing left as T'Pol watched helplessly. Her daughter's round eyes fixed on hers and when the little body's katra left, it took with it a part of T'Pol's.

Secretly, T'Pol had wished little Elizabeth had taken all of her.

During that concert, Trip covered her hand with his and T'Pol remembered that she still had him in her life. It was that small bit of hope that she had not lost everything that helped her maintain some semblance of control.

T'Pol leaned back in her chair in the bar. Her father had gone long before, her mother had died only six months ago, and she had lost Elizabeth four months later. The last remnant of her heart broke when Trip had died a month after Elizabeth. Or so she, as well as everyone else, was led to believe.

Earlier in the day, she had learned otherwise. There he was, standing in front of her, medically altered to look like a Romulan. He had staged his death to cover his new life of espionage.

The news caused a mixture of feelings that T'Pol continued to struggle to suppress. He was alive and the joy of knowing this well-guarded information reassembled a few pieces of her fragmented heart.

But whatever joy she secretly allowed herself to feel was hampered by his assignment. The life of a spy was dangerous enough, but Trip's assignment among the Romulans decreased the chances of his safe return further.

The woman with a half apron carried a tray which held a small, bowl-like glass filled one fourth of the way with an amber liquid. She stopped near T'Pol and set the drink on the chipped and heavily carved wooden table.

T'Pol lifted her hand in the air absentmindedly, her mind preoccupied with Trip's altered look and how similar Vulcans and Romulans were.

With a small finger-sized scanner she pulled from her apron, the woman scanned the back of T'Pol's hand and checked the readout. With an approving nod in T'Pol's direction, the woman showed T'Pol the price extracted from her account and left.

For a long moment, T'Pol stared at her drink before picking it up and bringing it to her lips. Aware of the English expression "drowning one's sorrows," she decided that that was what she required at the moment.

Before logic rightly convinced her otherwise, she swallowed the slightly bitter liquid, and it burned as it rushed down her throat. What her mother would think of her?

In life, even though they seldom agreed, her mother was her foundation. She was a constant by which to measure what it was to be Vulcan. And now she was gone.

Elizabeth was her hope for the future, for a future with Trip. Cultivated from stolen DNA, she was a part of T'Pol's body as well as her soul. Most of all, Elizabeth was a combination of her and Trip.

Motherhood was never a priority for T'Pol until she saw the infant girl in the incubator. Suddenly, she felt the need to bond with the baby, to protect and care for her daughter with the man she... But that was gone too. Or was it?

Although Trip was not dead and however comforting that information may have been, T'Pol felt as though her future was bleak.

T'Pol relaxed her rigid back. The change was imperceptible to those around her but quite noticeable to her.

Trip was gone. At least he was not dead, but he was on a mission that would more than likely keep him from ever returning to her. So, essentially, he was gone.

Closing her eyes, she remembered meeting him and learning he was still alive. That should have been enough for her, but it wasn't. After losing so much, she wanted something to fill in those gaping holes in her life.

The music from the jazz band began, and T'Pol watched as passersby stopped in to hear the very lively music. T'Pol closed her eyes to allow her senses to fully appreciate the moment.

The bar had to have been one of the last few establishments exempt from the ban on smoking indoors, and the smell of burning tobacco wrapped in paper filled her nose. Strangely, it enhanced the atmosphere of music in the bar setting.

Along the floor and the wall where the back of her chair rested, she felt the vibration of the music.

One of the wandering listeners stopped at her table and, through the amplified music, she barely heard the other chair as it scraped across the floor. When she opened her eyes, there was Trip's Romulan face. He'd passed unnoticed among the crowd as a Vulcan because very few individuals knew Vulcans and Romulans were so similar.

"I couldn't leave things that way," he said.

Was there an alternative? He had his mission and she had her life, or at least what was left of it.

Even before he said the words, she felt the emotion radiating from him. "I love you."

T'Pol's jaw clenched but she continued to return his gaze emotionless, distant. After a deep breath, she said, "You should not do this now."

He reached for her hand before T'Pol could move it away and she felt his thoughts just as she knew he felt hers. A smile that he managed to hide as quickly as it had come across his face confirmed it. Their bond was strongest when they touched, and she knew he sensed her love for him even though her Vulcan upbringing kept her from verbalizing it.

"I have to leave in the morning," he told her as he leaned in close to her ear.

He released her hand after the emotions and intentions associated with his words hit her and then he stood from his chair. Without a word, T'Pol stood from hers and accompanied him out of the bar and to the apartment she kept for her extended stays on Earth.

Neither said a word during the walk, but then there was nothing that needed to be said. Both knew that they would say goodbye properly this time.

_**March 27, 2155.**_ In the mess hall aboard Enterprise, T'Pol sat at a table layered with plates. Some were covered with food but most had been emptied. There were cups filled with water and others which now lay emptied and discarded on the floor.

A very worried looking Hoshi Sato took a chair from nearby and sat down at T'Pol's table. "Commander."

T'Pol couldn't talk. Her body craved food and a lot of it. No matter how much she ate, it was not enough. No matter how much water she drank, it could not quench her thirst. The best she could give the Ensign was a nod of acknowledgement.

To the human, T'Pol had to have seemed like a savage. Grabbing a leg of some poor creature called a turkey, T'Pol tore into the cooked flesh without hesitation.

In moments it was stripped clean, exposing nothing but the bone which she flung onto an empty plate. T'Pol then started on the piece of meat called a pork chop.

Hoshi leaned in to whisper, "T'Pol, are you okay?"

She would have answered the woman but T'Pol's body was focused solely, instinctually on eating as she continued to tear apart the assortment of meats, including clams and a bowl of cooked chicken livers.

Desperate for something unknown, she continued to eat everything in front of her until her chest tightened and breathing became difficult.

Gasping to force her lungs to take in some air, she fell to the floor clawing at the empty air above her as though battling some unseen attacker. The last thing she remembered was the confused looks on the faces around her -- Hoshi's closest to her -- as they disappeared into darkness.

Opening her eyes in sickbay, T'Pol turned to see Phlox studying an image on screen. Her lungs took in a full breath effortlessly and she no longer craved human food. T'Pol figured the doctor must have cured her of her strange ailment.

"Doctor?"

"Ah, Commander." The Denobulan doctor smiled widely in the way she'd only ever seen from his species. "I take it you're feeling better?"

"Yes." T'Pol nodded in his direction as she slid from a medical bed and took a moment to steady herself. Apparently, she was not completely well.

Phlox turned back to the screen with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Perhaps you should come have a look." He saw her wobble for a moment. "Careful, Commander. You're still not one hundred percent."

"What is wrong with me?" she asked.

His response was a casual gesture toward the screen with his hand. A recorded image played one full minute of footage then started from the beginning, as evidenced by the an abrupt jump.

At first glance, the image was of a strange creature that reminded her of Earth seahorses. In the center of it was a steady pulsing of what she assumed was a heart.

But it was more than that; she was sure of it. Taking a tentative step closer, she recognized what it was. An embryo.

Her eyes shifted to the doctor, which only brought back his unnervingly wide smile that threatened to have the corners of his mouth touch his eyes.

What was displayed on the screen was her child. And without realizing it, she pressed her hand to her abdomen and studied the image more carefully.

Judging by the size marked on the screen and its development, she was just under a month pregnant. In her mind, the picture on the screen shifted quickly from some common creature to her entire hope for her future. T'Pol stared at the image until convinced she could remember every detail.

As the image continued to loop in the one minute recording of her child's pulsing heartbeat, she found that she could not turn away from it as Phlox explained the situation in the mess hall.

Vaguely aware of the Denobulan doctor's presence, she did manage to hear that her body craved nutrients the developing child required and sought the foods that contained them. Her body, however, was not equipped to absorb most of them. And those she could absorb had reached toxic levels.

For her body to dispose of the excess material in her system, it required greater quantities of water.

Until Phlox purged the excess, her and her baby's lives had been threatened. T'Pol was sure she had a creature from the menagerie to thank for saving them both.

Barely aware of the hypo-spray Phlox had placed in her hand, T'Pol heard him mention enzymes to aid in the absorption of vital nutrients.

T'Pol was only peripherally aware of what the doctor spoke of as it faded into background noise except for some words here and there. Blood work... stabilized... a girl.

A girl.

T'Pol continued to stare at her miracle magnified on the screen.


	3. Mother: T'Pol's Story, pt2

_**April 19, 2155.**_ Standing near the fountain of her mother's home, T'Pol listened to the water flowing downward and allowed the sound to wash through her mind. It was the last of several forms of meditation that she had tried in two days.

After securing a promise of confidentiality from Dr. Phlox and Captain Archer, T'Pol requested personal leave on Vulcan. She had to plan for the new arrival, but she was preoccupied with a fear that became increasingly harder to control.

Her first child was interred in the newly reconstructed T'Karath Sanctuary. When thinking of Elizabeth, she also thought of how the members of Terra Prime had been repulsed by her relationship with Trip. She remembered their hatred of innocent Elizabeth, and their unfounded fear of what her doomed daughter represented. What would happen to this child? How many would hate her, too?

Quieting her mind, T'Pol tried again to slip into a relaxing meditative state.

The Vulcans she had seen during Elizabeth's burial, although they were civil, were clearly uncomfortable with the idea of such a child.

The undercurrent of disgust was just as apparent as when she first returned to Vulcan after accepting her commission in Starfleet. Even through their masks of ever impassive countenance, she could see the disapproval in their eyes.

T'Pol breathed in deeply, finally acknowledging that she required assistance in meditation. She preferred not to meditate in a public setting, but the local temple was meticulously designed to be conducive to preparing one's mind and body for a meditative state.

T'Pol entered one of the large, round cave-like rooms with a high domed ceiling inside the newly renovated temple several kilometers from her mother's home.

She breathed in the scent of herbs and oil from the many candles burning. Set in crude hollows carved into the wall, they made each wall seem like a glowing honeycomb in the ancient den. It was called the Hall of Tranquility, one of the many rooms for public meditation.

On one side of the entrance was a pile of woven mats rolled and stacked. T'Pol took one and unrolled it onto the floor, then sat on it with her legs folded under her.

Controlling her breathing, T'Pol focused on a hollow directly in front of her. Breathing in, she pictured the glowing light of the candle surrounding her, extending along the border of the mat. Breathing out, she pictured the light brightening and expanding to replace the room.

Breathing in, T'Pol pictured Elizabeth's face. Breathing out, she heard Paxton's voice: "Your child and the Coalition of Planets, both doomed from the beginning."

Her breathing accelerated, and T'Pol could not regain control of it. Her hands slid along her robes to her abdomen in an irrational attempt to shield the child. One word echoed in her mind. Doomed.

"T'Pol?" The familiar voice came from the entrance. She turned to see the heavily wrinkled head-priestess of the temple. T'Pol was sure the woman spoke at a normal level only because there was no one else in the room she would disturb.

T'Pol looked at the woman's face. By the signs of age, T'Pol guessed her to be over two hundred Earth years.

The woman took a mat from the pile, unrolled it and sat next to her. "You continue to have difficulty with meditation, T'Pol?" Although T'Pol did have trouble at the moment, she knew the woman referred to an ongoing struggle she'd had when younger. She shook her head.

The woman peered into T'Pol's eyes, then scanned her entire body quickly before asking, "Would you prefer private counsel?"

Chaali, the Elder Priestess and matron of the local temple, had counseled T'Pol long ago. As a child, T'Pol had had difficulty with meditation and emotional control and was thankful for the help and advice from the elder priestess.

Although she knew her situation was an issue she should not divulge, the priestess was a woman T'Pol had known for so long and confided in so much, many years ago, that T'Pol could not help but nod.

The woman, quite spry for a person of her advanced age, stood with little effort and waited for T'Pol to join her.

After rolling her mat and then the mat of her mentor, T'Pol followed the priestess out of the room. Just before she exited, she returned the mats neatly to the pile.

Chaali led her down dark, low-ceilinged halls with a candle taken from outside one of the several rooms of meditation they had passed.

Beyond an old wooden door Chaali had opened was a more secluded chamber sparsely decorated with shelves carved into the stone walls. They were filled with folded carpets and meditation candles and some strange looking containers.

The elder woman pulled a woven rug from a shelf and held it high to allow it to roll open to its full length. A very intricate design of triangles within triangles decorated it, although T'Pol could not make out more than two colors in the dim light.

With one large snap, Chaali spread the long, richly carpeted mat along the floor and placed a single candle supported by a holder in the center.

Chaali gestured gracefully with her aged hand for T'Pol to sit on the opposite end of the ornate carpet then joined her.

They sat quietly for a long moment as Chaali's eyes studied the younger Vulcan woman, who continued to stare at the flickering flame.

"Speak of what concerns you, T'Pol."

T'Pol closed her eyes.

"As a child, you always had difficulty with your emotions, but I would have expected at this age you would have mastered the basic skill of meditation."

After taking a deep breath, T'Pol opened her eyes but did not look at the woman. Instead, she continued watching the flame draw into itself then stretch upward as the tip swayed. It took all of her concentration to maintain control over her fears.

"Is it the pregnancy?"

Her head snapped level to her mentor's and her eyes met with the penetrating gaze of someone that had seen more than T'Pol could have imagined.

"The signs are all there. Your cheeks are full from your body storing more water as it protects the developing child from the harsh climate."

Chaali's hand lifted near T'Pol's cheek but came just short of touching.

"You're scent has changed slightly." Chaali sniffed the air quickly. "It's the pheromones produced during pregnancy."

T'Pol turned her head away from the woman.

"You have no mate." The priestess considered this for a moment. "But that is not unacceptable in our society."

As Chaali continued to stare curiously at her, T'Pol suspected the elder would soon deduce the truth about her child's parentage.

The elder's eyes widened for a moment then returned to normal. Although Vulcans found silence relaxing and peaceful, T'Pol found this silence anything but.

The priestess took an unnaturally long breath before speaking. "The human. He perished recently."

"Matron," T'Pol addressed the woman with less control than she would have liked, panicking. "I implore you. This cannot become public knowledge."

Before T'Pol could finish her full thought, the aged hands lifted, with palm out, for silence. Chaali breathed in deeply again. "All that is said in my chamber shall remain in my chamber."

"He lives, but he cannot be here." T'Pol regained her composure, but just barely. "That aside, my fear for the child troubles me. The violent hatred for Elizabeth was..."

Her voice trailed off as she attempted to refocus her thoughts.

Chaali raised her hand again, but this time it was horizontal with fingers spread near T'Pol's face. The priestess was asking for permission to mind-meld.

After the return of the Kir'Shara, T'Pol was surprised to see how quickly those devoted to Vulcan temples embraced the practice.

After a nod, T'Pol closed her eyes and felt the fingers of the priestess along her temple, her forehead, and her cheek. She felt the presence of another immediately in her mind.

To suppress an involuntary urge to break away when she remembered Tolaris and his brutal use of the telepathic method, T'Pol reminded herself that this could help provide her with some way to protect her baby.

"Focus, T'Pol," she heard the woman's voice in her mind. "Focus on the issue that disrupts your mind."

T'Pol breathed in deeply and thought of Paxton and his followers. Their faces seethed with hatred for her innocent daughter, Elizabeth. The child was at the center of hostility and condemned to death for being a mixture of two worlds, just as the baby growing within her might be.

She called forth the image of disapproving eyes when she brought Elizabeth to Vulcan for entombment. Although their faces were impassive as was expected of Vulcans, their eyes told her all she needed to know.

Some of her people did not approve of Elizabeth's interment within the Vulcan monument. Suddenly, T'Pol imagined herself watching yet another child of hers interned there, alongside her sister, also unacceptable to both peoples. She felt the hope for her future vanish. . .

The fear returned and T'Pol couldn't continue. Perhaps the elder sensed her unwillingness to share further and withdrew her fingers from T'Pol's face.

Chaali considered the issue. "You wish to hide the child's human heritage?"

T'Pol didn't want to admit that truth, but anything else would be a lie. "Yes."

Trip's safety, as well as the safety of those closest to him, depended on the world believing him dead. And although it was a disagreeable thought, the odds of him returning from his covert mission were not in his favor.

Her affection... her love... for Trip was stronger than anything she'd ever felt, until the moment she learned about the life growing inside her. The child had become her priority, her future. The child's survival had become her primary thought when she woke in the morning until she fell asleep at night.

"Have you considered the consequences of raising the half-human child as fully Vulcan?" Chaali questioned.

She considered them and found it to be the safest, albeit least savory choice. However, T'Pol was convinced many would see through her deception and deduce that her pregnancy was too close to the last day Trip was known to be alive. Also, everyone knew about their relationship.

Chaali confirmed this. By the few clues she had, she managed to conclude accurately the child was of two species in moments. Most Vulcans and some humans would come to the same conclusion as quickly and T'Pol would have to spend so much time and many more resources dispelling the truth. And for how long could it last?

"I believe it is the best course, but I do not know how that would be possible."

"Perhaps a Vulcan man that could accept your situation, preferably one whose family is prominently established in Vulcan society. Marry him."

Before she could push the thought from her mind, it conjured an image of Koss as a prospective surrogate father. T'Pol's nostrils flared involuntarily and she breathed deeply. Picturing life with the man caused a distasteful sense of betrayal.

"Trip is my bonded," T'Pol explained.

"The human?" T'Pol thought she had heard the steady voice of the priestess falter and guessed that bit of information had not been shared in the mind-meld. She nodded.

"There is another option," the elder offered. "Rarely suggested and even rarer to be accepted by the individuals involved, an alternative to Kunut Kalifi is applicable in your situation. A marriage of three willing individuals prepared to devote themselves to not just one, but two mates."

T'Pol tried to dismiss it from her mind as unacceptable but could not fully. It was another option to add to the lengthening list of unpleasant choices.

The elder woman stood from the carpet and walked to a shelf chiseled into the wall. From it, she removed a metallic container and held it for T'Pol to take. "This will aid you in your concentration. Perhaps you should meditate more often while you carry a half human child."

T'Pol took the container and opened it. The jelly-like substance inside was nearly clear with specks of herbs suspended within it. She then lifted her head to give the priestess a questioning look.

"Massage your skin with it once before meditation," the woman simply added and T'Pol nodded in compliance.

In her bedroom of her mother's house, T'Pol lit the candle she had placed on the small end table and reached for the container Chaali had given her earlier in the day.

Scooping the jelly substance with her fingers, T'Pol rubbed her hands together to smear it on each hand equally. It smelled like a concentrated version of the temple candles and her skin warmed wherever she applied it.

Her neck, her arms, and her legs warmed as though she'd been sunbathing for hours at a time under the twin suns, and T'Pol felt several muscles in her body relax all at once.

Sitting in her typical position for meditation, her mind slipped easily into her meditative state. The light of the candle surrounded her and expanded outward until there was nothing left but the warm, bright white light of peace.

For days she had not felt this comfort and seclusion of her mind and allowed it to linger until she sensed a presence. There was one thing better than the isolation of her white-space and it was having Trip in it with her.

"Trip?" She looked around the vast whiteness as limitless as the universe and there he was, with her, standing in the robes she'd seen him in before he'd left for Romulan space.

Looking around, a bit disoriented, Trip's eyes landed on T'Pol and rushed to her side. "Are you okay? The baby? It's been days and I don't have much time."

"We are well. I had difficulty with meditation."

"Difficulty?" he repeated the word as though he was trying to determine its meaning. T'Pol was sure he sensed some of her emotions but when he placed his hand on her face, she felt the rush of emotions exchanged and knew he had a better idea of what "difficulty" meant.

"You're afraid. And I'm not talking about the kind you usually hide from everyone. It feels... almost paralyzing."

T'Pol pulled her face from his hand and turned away from him. She needed a moment to sort through the volatile emotions – his emotions received through the connection as well as her own – as he did the same.

"You want to hide that she is half human," he mumbled to himself, continuing to sort through all that they had shared in the one mental touch. "But you don't think people will believe she's fully Vulcan."

Trip paced nearby in the vast brightness of her white-space. "I can't return for good. What I'm doing is too important for the safety of Earth, Vulcan, and so many other planets. But if I return long enough to give a good dog and pony show, just enough to make everyone think I'm some kind of Vulcan merchant..."

"It's not enough, Trip," T'Pol interrupted his thought as she shook her head. "The timing of your official death is too close. An unknown merchant without established family or a past would only encourage speculation."

"Then you can't hide the fact that she's half human."

Now it was her turn to pace. T'Pol remained silent for moments that seemed more like eternity. She knew what she had to say but couldn't bring herself to say the words. Instead she chose to gently place her hand along his jaw and allowed their bond to explain for her.

Closing his eyes to the onslaught of emotions and fragments of memories, Trip concentrated.

"You had to go to the temple to meditate. Someone named Chaali. So much fear." Trip stepped back enough to withdraw from her hand and spat the name as though it were a curse, "Koss! After he forced you to marry him for the sake of your mother, you want to marry him again?"

The peaceful setting of her white-space rippled with turbulent emotions and T'Pol wondered if hers were the cause, his, or a combination of both.

A little confused by his words, T'Pol wondered how he'd ever come to that conclusion. "He did not force me to do anything."

"Oh sure, he didn't twist your arm literally but holding your mother's career over your head is just as bad. I know how seriously Vulcans take their careers."

Suddenly aware of the problem, T'Pol realized he only knew half the situation. Although Trip knew more of Vulcan culture than most humans, he did not know everything.

"Trip, Koss did not use the reinstatement of my mother's position as leverage. He was reminding me of a fact that would have been obvious to me if my mother had told me the truth about her 'retirement'."

She remembered the conversation in the front courtyard with Koss. "As his wife, his family would have been willing, if not obligated, to help. They would not have had any incentive to help someone who was not intimately connected with their family, especially a woman who had dishonored their family."

"I am certain Koss would have helped my mother if it were within his power to do so, and would have made no demands of me."

Trip remained silent but gave her a knowing look. When his arms folded and his jaw clenched, T'Pol knew he would require time to calm himself and process the information. But before he returned to the unknown, there were some details she wanted to clarify.

"It would be a marriage between the three of us." T'Pol took a step closer to him but Trip responded immediately with a step back. "And Koss is the logical choice. His family is prominently established within Vulcan society. His inclusion into such a marriage would legitimize the assertion that the baby is Vulcan..."

"And why would he do that?"

"He has not found another to marry which means he has no obligations otherwise and he-"

"And he's in love with you. I'm just a human," Trip interrupted her bitterly," and even I can see that. But the great big, fat elephant in the room you didn't mention is that, as his wife, you would be expected to meet his needs when his pon-farr comes around. What then?"

Her eyes darted away from him. It was the one thought T'Pol was aware of but didn't want to think much about. In such a marriage, it would be her uxorial obligation to sate the primal urge.

When she managed to look at him directly, she could not bring herself to meet his eyes for more than a second.

"I thought so." His expression was cold, more than she had ever thought he could achieve.

"What's required of me with him does not matter. Trip..." she called to his visage dissolving like the smoke of a candle until there was nothing left in the vast whiteness.

"I love you," she whispered, alone.


	4. Mother: T'Pol's Story, pt3

_**April 24, 2155.**_ It had been days since T'Pol had communicated with Trip and she continued to feel as though she had betrayed him with her suggestion.

Several attempts to communicate with him through meditation yielded nothing but emptiness as a reminder of how hopeless her situation had become.

Her week of leave, to figure out her next course of action, was almost at an end and she was no closer to a resolution than she was from the start.

Every time she imagined rearing her daughter on Earth, she pictured herself crying over another tiny, lifeless body.

A knock at the door disrupted her morbid imagination, replacing it with curiosity. She seldom had visitors during her stay in her mother's home. And when she did, it was usually family members and they sent announcements beforehand.

The form at the door was familiar but, as she opened the door, T'Pol reminded herself that it could not be. "Koss?"

"You wished to speak to me?" he responded expectantly.

"No, I-" T'Pol didn't have the time to finish speaking when a strange Vulcan male with a sack slung over his shoulder made his way through the front courtyard and behind Koss at the door.

"Sorry. Thought I'd get here before you." The stranger pushed passed Koss and stood for a long moment in front of T'Pol. It was not a stranger but Trip in his Romulan guise, staring at her with a grin she would recognize anywhere.

It took a moment for her to regain her senses and invite him in. Still stunned by his presence she merely moved to the side, opening the door wider.

"I don't have much time and we have to work this through," Trip explained as he dropped his sack on the floor of the entryway and turned to look at T'Pol.

Her mouth, teeth, and tongue prepared to speak his name but it ended at her vocal cords when she remembered Koss at the door. He did not enter the house and only looked to T'Pol for an explanation. "I received a message from you. Did you not want me to meet you here at this time?"

"Oh, I sent that," Trip informed them both as he righted himself in his robes.

Koss's eyes shifted quickly to what T'Pol was certain he considered an odd Vulcan in appearance and manner. She turned to look at her bonded and wondered what percolated in that fevered human mind.

"Aren't you going to invite him in, T'Pol?" Trip reminded her of her breach of etiquette and T'Pol gestured with a subtle nod for the Vulcan man to enter the house.

"Please, Koss, have a seat," she offered, then moved toward Trip's side and continued toward the bedrooms.

Trip followed her into the bedroom that was once her mother's as she expected him to. Once the door closed behind him, Trip held his hand out to her and she accepted it.

Emotions and fragmented images flooded her mind. Anger, fear, emotional pain, physical pain, danger, and something that was such a mixture of them all that she could not quite make out what it meant.

Regaining her control from the barrage of emotion, T'Pol straightened herself and withdrew her hand from his. "How did you get here? And why did you invite Koss to my mother's house?"

"I reconsidered," he said as he picked up a small box. He was obviously too preoccupied with his thoughts to truly pay any attention to the item on her clothing storage cabinet. "I have to know that the two of you are cared for if..."

T'Pol sensed the jumble of emotions from him again and she turned her head away in response. "I should not have suggested it."

"No," he disagreed and placed the box back on the cabinet before reaching for her hands. "I have to know the two of you are cared for."

She felt the emotions stronger than she had before. Danger, regret, fear, love, anger, and acceptance. Something happened that he did not want to discuss, but whatever it was had solidified his resolve.

"Trip, what happened?"

"Let's just say I had a little reminder of just how mortal I am."

During the week, she was sure she sensed his life slipping away but there was nothing she could do and eased her mind believing it was just her fears resurfacing.

Even as the full weight of his words sank into her mind, she felt the overpowering fear she had had so much difficulty regaining some control over since she first learned of her pregnancy.

His arms enveloped her. "I'm not thrilled about sharing you with Koss. But I had to come to grips with the idea that I just don't know when I'm coming back for good. Can I be selfish and tell you to wait for me for a year? Five years? Ten years? Forever? I can't leave the two of you like that and at least this gives me the opportunity to return to you someday."

"But I love you. And I am Vulcan. I can wait." It wasn't just a statement but emphasis that her heart belonged to him and not Koss, always.

They held each other close and he murmured into her ear, "I know. Thanks to our connection I have no doubt about that. No matter what, T'Pol, I know that won't change."

_**April 30, 2155.**_ Chaali stood and appraised the three individuals carefully. T'Pol was certain the matron recognized Koss. His family had visited the local temple for meditation throughout his childhood as well. And she knew the elder Vulcan would immediately conclude that the second Vulcan man with her was the human in disguise. But to her credit, Chaali said nothing.

"All three are aware that each one of you, today, will promise devotion to not just one mate but two?" Chaali's eyes swept from Koss to T'Pol then rested firmly on Trip.

All three nodded and the elder woman spoke again, "Very well then. May the bonded connect."

Trip hesitated, unsure of what Chaali requested until T'Pol held her two fingers out to him. They connected forming an "x" shape with their fingers and Chaali took hold of them, moving the fingers into another position.

They no longer connected in the center of their fingers but now at the tips forming a triangular arch and Chaali motioned for Koss to join. To show him where he could place his fingers, Chaali positioned hers close to T'Pol and Trip's but never touched them.

Koss approached them and started to place his fingers where they should be but hesitated. Everyone waited as he took a moment that seemed to stretch for eternity before he finally connected his fingers to theirs.

T'Pol's cousin, T'Kaala, stepped forward, representing T'Pol's family as a witness to the ceremony. Since childhood, T'Pol had always preferred the company of T'Kaala to any of her other family members. It was when she did not speak of the kiss T'Pol had given Trip before her first marriage to Koss that T'Kaala proved trustworthy.

Standing by T'Kaala's side was Koss's uncle, Sulor, a man T'Pol had only met once.

And on the other side of T'Kaala was another Vulcan man that was actually another human field operative. Surgically altered as a Vulcan, he was temporarily called to represent Trip's "family" during the ceremony.

And so, with representatives from all three families the ceremony began as Chaali joined the three in marriage.

_**January 24, 2156.**_ T'Pol had caressed her round, distended abdomen as she watched her husband spread the sterilized absorbent blanket along the birthing chaise, which was located in her mother's bedroom. Both items had recently been brought to the house by the physician assigned to T'Pol from the local medical facility.

Phlox and the Vulcan physician discussed her records at a table full of Phlox's medical equipment. The Vulcan man's eyes inventoried every item and requested information on some. But when his eyes fell to the various containers of creatures Phlox used in his healing practice, the Vulcan's back stiffened.

Although it was common for pregnant Vulcans to prefer Vulcan doctors, it was far from rare for those that had spent much of their time off-world to prefer a doctor they'd grown accustomed to which were sometimes of another species.

As her husband helped her to the chaise, T'Pol could hear Phlox assured the doctor that his records were up to date and he was well prepared for the birthing of a Vulcan child.

Her other husband placed several candles around the chair and he began to light them one at a time.

The muscles at the center of her body painfully tightened and she could not move except to contract into a near fetal position as the sudden exhalation of air rushed through her mouth.

Phlox and the Vulcan doctor turned to T'Pol to assess her condition then returned to their conversation when they were satisfied that there was no obvious complication. It was just another contraction in the natural process.

"Please contact the facility when the child is born so that we may collect a sample of her DNA for the database."

"Of course." Phlox gave a nod to the doctor in response to one given.

Having finished lighting the last candle, Koss escorted the Vulcan physician out of the house and locked the door behind him.

"The doctor has left," he announced when returning to the room and T'Pol noticed how each person noticeably relaxed with the news. Everyone except T'Pol who struggled with another contraction that left her more disoriented than the last.

Phlox asked Koss to help him move the table covered with medical equipment closer to T'Pol while Trip stayed close to her side. He held her hand tightly and through the bond she felt his love and he felt her pain.

Through their bond, his mind helped her focus beyond the excruciating process she was not prepared for. It was not something anyone could prepare for.

"Okay." Now having everyone's attention, Phlox proclaimed loudly, "It's time to bring this child into the universe." His strange, exaggerated smile appeared on his face.

T'Pol held the bundled newborn in her arms and studied every feature of her daughter's sleeping form. Her eyes were closed peacefully and silvery tufts of hair were plastered to her head. Her wrinkled skin, typical of newborns, had the slightest tint of green.

Around her, T'Pol was barely aware of the bodies in constant motion. Trip and Koss extinguished and removed the candles while Phlox spoke with the physician sent to collect the newborn's DNA sample. T'Pol watched Phlox hand the Vulcan physician a disk containing one single drop of Vulcan blood.

What the physician did not know was that the drop was not her daughter's.

On one of the outer Vulcan colonies, DNA samples were not recorded and there were higher infant mortality rates due to less advanced medical facilities. Section 31 operatives obtained the genetic material of one of the unfortunate children that had perished months earlier.

The blood had been altered by Phlox aboard Enterprise to give the illusion of being related to T'Pol. Although she found the entire deception detestable, she was willing to live with it if it helped her protect her daughter.

Trip finished whatever he was doing and stood by T'Pol and their daughter. The back of his finger brushed the extremely soft skin and was rewarded with little eyelids opening slightly as her tiny head instinctually turned in the direction of his finger. It was not much but just enough to give parents a peek at their child's very blue eyes before they closed again.

Tidying the area around T'Pol, Koss stopped in mid motion to glance in Trip's direction before heading towards the Vulcan doctor.

"I trust Doctor Phlox has supplied you with what you require?" he asked the Vulcan physician.

"Yes." She quickly glanced at her handheld medical recorder and nodded. "It is sufficient."

"I believe my family requires rest."

T'Pol could not see the physician's reaction because Koss stood between them and the doctor and continued to do so as he escorted the Vulcan woman out of the room.

Not certain why he repeatedly positioned himself this way, T'Pol's eyes raised to the face near hers and noticed what Koss must have.

Trip had reached his limit for suppressing his emotions and Koss may have just saved them from having to explain the unexplainable.

After packing the last of his equipment, Phlox wandered over to mother, father, and child. "So, have you decided on a name for this adorable little baby?" The end of his sentence became a tone one would use with young human children and it annoyed T'Pol.

"T'Mir," T'Pol spoke her second foremother's name. "She was one of three Vulcans to make first contact with humans."

"You said that was just a story," Trip questioned her.

T'Pol wanted to smile and felt the corners of her mouth curl slightly before fully suppressing the urge. "I did not state specifically that it was 'just' a story. With a small suggestion, I merely allowed your own interpretation to complete the discussion."

His eyes stared at her before wondering aloud, "So, how many other suggestions have there been?"

Giving her mate one last glance before focusing once again on the sleeping infant, one instance remained prominent in her memory. "Do you still believe you compare to a lab rat?"

_**August 20, 2156.**_ It was very early in the morning when T'Pol stood at the door of a house on Earth she could barely see.

A thick fog rendered anything not within a distance of three feet into a misty haze. If it were not for global positioning, their shuttle would never have found the correct home.

The door opened and her former captain rushed outside and directly to T'Pol. "So this is T'Mir," he peeked into the carrier held close to her chest and supported by the straps across her back.

"She's beautiful, T'Pol."

It had been months since T'Pol had been among humans and she had to remind herself of human etiquette she'd once learned to use without hesitation. "Thank you, Captain."

The man opened his arms to embrace the Vulcan woman but reconsidered.

With a quick nod in the direction of Koss standing beside T'Pol, Archer walked into the house and waved for them to follow.

There was a staircase on the left side of the entrance but it was to the right that Archer walked, passing through an archway that led to what T'Pol assumed was a room used primarily for congregating.

On the sofa, Elaine and Charles Tucker, Jr., Trip's parents, sat very close together, with Phlox sitting on the other side of Elaine. The woman and Phlox were in mid conversation when the four entered the room and all of the chatter silenced immediately.

Curtains that should have been open to allow the bright, yet befogged light into the house were drawn close as the room was lit by a single floor lamp, emitting very bright light.

In the corner of the room, another human man stood quietly watching. T'Pol would not have noticed him if he had not spoken when they entered. "Let's begin, shall we?"

Trip's parents watched T'Pol while awaiting whatever more the man had to say.

Assuming this was the man Trip and Archer simply called "Harris," T'Pol stood with Koss and waited as well. She noticed the human couple seemed overwhelmed by the secrecy of the gathering, but that did not cause Elaine to forget her manners.

"Please, have a seat," Elaine offered T'Pol, as she gestured with her hand toward an empty chair.

T'Pol sat in the upholstered chair and Koss stood in back of it.

"What is spoken here today should never be spoken of again. Even amongst yourselves. I cannot emphasize this enough, Mr. and Mrs. Tucker," Harris began, but Archer rolled his eyes at him and interrupted.

"Gracie, Charlie, this is important. Lives are at stake. We're going to tell you something but you can't speak the truth again. No matter how private you think the conversation is."

The two nodded, eyes darting from Archer to Harris. Charlie took his wife's hand into his and T'Pol felt her heart flutter at the thought of holding her own husband's hand... her other husband's hand.

Charlie spoke with a strong clear voice even though T'Pol recognized signs of nervousness. They were similar to the signs she would find in Trip under stressful circumstances. "We understand that this is top secret military stuff."

Archer smiled with one of his warmest smiles as he came closer to the human couple. "We can't tell you everything, but the most important thing you need to know is..." T'Pol's former captain turned his head in the direction of T'Pol, Koss, and T'Mir.

Deciding it was best to stand at that moment, T'Pol lifted herself from the chair as Archer continued, "...that adorable little baby over there is your grandchild."

Charlie raised a skeptical eye to Archer then to T'Pol. His eyes wandered to the stoic Vulcan man behind her and seemed even more skeptical.

Elaine, on the other hand, took a different approach. Immediately leaving the sofa, the human woman walked up to T'Pol and both women appraised each other before T'Pol shifted the carrier just enough to expose the six month old baby.

It was obvious that Elaine noticed something familiar in the child's face but doubt reigned in her mind. Gesturing for permission to touch the child, T'Pol nodded and Elaine brushed the silvery hair and asked T'Pol, "Is this color hair normal for Vulcans?"

"It is found among a very small portion of the population."

The touch of the woman's finger woke the sleeping child and drowsy eyelids lifted to reveal blue eyes. Elaine's focus returned to T'Pol and was met with unyielding impassivity.

Elaine turned to Archer, barely containing her glee, and found that warm smile of his again. Then she looked to her husband. "I know those eyes, Charlie."


	5. Mother: T'Pol's Story, pt4

_**May 12, 2159.**_ T'Pol had placed a candle on the low table in front of her in the central area of what was once her mother's home but now belonged to her family. T'Mir came from her bedroom, previously T'Pol's, and walked to Koss.

"Father, can we collect stones for Earth."

"We've recently returned from Earth," he corrected.

"I gave Meemaw a stone. She was pleased with it. I want to gather many more. I will choose the best for our next visit.

Koss nodded in acceptance. "You will require the proper footwear for a long walk."

Koss walked to the corner of the central area of the house where family shoes were arranged neatly on the floor. He removed the sandals he'd worn that morning and replaced them with sturdier sandals for traveling longer distances in the sands and rocks as T'Mir did the same.

With one last nod in T'Pol's direction, the two left the house, walking toward the trail nearby.

T'Pol concentrated on the flame and controlled her breathing. The brightest light of the flame expanded around her until there was nothing but that light.

"T'Pol," Trip said her name as he approached her in her white-space. "I'm sorry I missed a few of our daily rendezvous. I've been kind'a busy."

"I was concerned. Although I did not sense you were in any imminent danger..." She looked away and continued, "... I was concerned."

Attempting to change the subject, Trip asked about his family's recent trip to Earth.

"Your mother continues to remind me that T'Mir requires good, wholesome foods to grow up strong and healthy."

Trip smiled.

"And she insists that I am 'wasting away'."

Trip tried to restrain a chuckle.

"Each visit, she irrationally 'swears' we both have lost weight and immediately prepares enough food to feed the entire senior crew of Enterprise."

This time he laughed fully at the thought of his mother saying and doing these things.

"That's Mom, all right! Ah-hmm," he cleared his throat before continuing, "I miss them. Can you show them to me?"

Off to the side in the vast white light spanning eternity, his parents appeared in mid-conversation, with T'Mir between them. Nothing could be heard from their conversation, but when Gracie – that is what she insisted T'Pol call her - laughed, Trip knew his father had made one of his jokes only his mother would find funny.

T'Mir looked up at the two and said something, causing both Gracie and Charlie to laugh heartily. T'Mir, however, remained as impassive as was expected of a Vulcan. "You have a sense of humor like mine," Charlie managed to say while trying to catch his breath.

It was just as T'Pol remembered it, brought to life in her white-space for Trip to see.

As the three people faded into the light, T'Mir reappeared but this time with Archer. Their former captain carried T'Mir on his shoulders and hopped around.

"Had enough?" the human man asked.

"To continue this strange activity would be... agreeable, Uncle Jon."

And so he continued to hop around when T'Mir bent to whisper in the man's ear, "How can you be my uncle? You are not related to my mother or my fathers. And you are human."

Stopping for a moment, the man turned his head slightly to meet T'Mir's and whispered back while tickling her sides, "Because I'm the only one qualified to be the uncle of someone so cute."

T'Mir's uninhibited laughter quieted as she regained control of her emotions and Archer continued to hop around with her on his shoulders as the two faded into the light.

"She laughed." Trip smiled. "That's the best thing I've seen in a long time." T'Pol had predicted he would enjoy the image of her laughter.

She stepped closer to him. "T'Mir laughs more than she should. Fortunately, her outbursts have only occurred within sight of only those with the true knowledge of her parentage.

"And it seems she has inherited your predilection for dismantling various items. Your father has even gone as far as to have her assist him in rebuilding a derelict vehicle." T'Pol stood rigidly, showing outwardly her disapproval even though she knew Trip could feel it through the connection.

"Derelict vehicle?" he wondered aloud.

"I believe he calls it a 67 Mustang convertible."

"He's still working on that thing?" Trip's head suddenly turned away in disbelief. "Wait a minute. He never let me help him! I couldn't even look at the thing!"

Ignoring him, T'Pol's mind was more preoccupied with the negative effect it may have on their child. "Each time, after their efforts with the obsolete machinery, T'Mir returns dirty, oily, and eager for more. Your father has started calling her a 'grease monkey.' I do not believe the 'nickname' is... appropriate."

_**November 3, 2161. Morning. **_T'Pol and T'Mir sat at the table as they ate their breakfast while Koss reached for a piece of fruit from the Vulcan stasis chamber they'd brought with them from Vulcan.

"Father, could we walk through the park this weekend," T'Mir asked Koss before eating a spoonful of cereal.

"That would be agreeable, Little One," he answered as he moved to leave the kitchen just as Trip entered it. The two collided and T'Pol watched as Koss stared at his human mate impassively. T'Pol wondered if Koss might have walked into Trip purposely.

Trip, on the other hand, clenched his fists and jaw. T'Pol was certain that he was holding back some choice words. The human eyes framed in Romulan features narrowed and spoke the sentiment he could not speak aloud for T'Mir's sake. It was an expression that said,

"What is your problem, Koss?"

"Good morning," Koss responded with an even tone as he turned and continued to walk out of the kitchen.

Trip's eyes landed on T'Mir and her blissful ignorance of their tension, then his eyes fell on T'Pol and she merely lowered her gaze.

On Vulcan, early in their marriage and during the time of T'Mir's birth, Trip and T'Pol had spent most of their time together while Koss always remained in the periphery.

Since moving into their house on Earth together, life had not been peaceful with the two males. It seemed that Koss was growing restless with his secondary position and the atmosphere had become so tense and strained that T'Pol believed something, or someone, would soon come undone.

Still upset, Trip stared at T'Pol for a long moment. It was a look she had recently come to know as the "if you do not talk to him, I will" expression.

T'Mir looked up at her father and Trip's face softened instantly. She then greeted him with a hearty, "Good morning, Dad."

"Good morning, Grease Monkey," he greeted her, placing with his hand on her hair that had darkened to a medium brown. He then brushed a curled finger against her cheek.

A smile appeared on her face then disappeared just as quickly but the warmth continued in her eyes.

Cringing at the name, T'Pol regretted telling him the name his father started calling their child a couple of years ago.

Taking a deep breath, T'Pol stood from her chair at the table and left the kitchen to find her other husband. As she ascended the stairs to the second floor, she heard Trip and T'Mir leave the house. It was time for Trip to drop her off at school.

The only closed door on the second floor was to Koss's bedroom, and T'Pol was fairly certain that he would be inside preparing to leave for the Vulcan Consulate.

"Koss?" she said his name and knocked but there was no answer. Opening the door slightly, she called his name again and still no response.

She could see the lights were turned off in his room as well. Just before she closed the door to look for him elsewhere, he responded with a very rude, "What do you want?"

T'Pol opened the door and stepped inside. "I wish to talk to you about the increasing tension between you and Trip."

"There is no tension."

"Husband," T'Pol gently called for him in the dark room and heard a grunt of sarcasm, disapproval, or displeasure. Or perhaps all of them at once.

She held out her two fingers for him and after several moments he finally connected his to hers. The connection caused her body to heat instantly and her breath to catch in her throat.

It suddenly occurred to her that this was the first time she'd greeted her husband this way. He would not remain in the same room with her for more than a moment at a time.

This also explained the unyielding sexual activity between her and Trip that she'd dismissed as merely having a beloved mate return after years away.

"How long?"

"The timing of its onset is of no consequence." He pulled his fingers from her and walked away, but answers had reached her through the connection before he could stop it.

"Of course it is," she assured him. Then the flashes of emotions and thoughts that were shared briefly in their touch finally made sense little by little.

Pon farr had started during their relocation to Earth and Koss tried to meditate for a resolution. Unfortunately, this also meant that he delayed his condition and was beginning to exhibit the initial signs of the plak tau, the blood fever.

_**November 3, 2161. Now.**_ The front door of the house swung open and bounced against the wall in back of it. T'Pol jumped at the sound not only because it startled her but because her body was wound tightly. She then heard her name called in the strained voice of her husband, her human husband.

Sitting in her chair at her desk in the office, she called out, "Here." The sound of her voice was weak and hollow.

"T'Pol! What is it? The message... and what I'm sensing..."

She would have explained more in the message she'd sent if not for its sensitive nature. Through the bond, it was clear he sensed changes in her caused by her lesser bond with Koss but did not know what it meant.

Now fully synced with Koss's cycle, she had very little control left of her strongest emotions and rushed into her mate's arms. Her forehead nestled in his neck and the skin contact was enough to tell all.

His breaths had become shallow and quick and the arms that held her pulled her in tightly.

An obligation, a promise made years ago was finally calling for her to answer and T'Pol didn't want to go. She wanted to remain in Trip's arms and knew through their bond that he wanted the same.

If he told her not to go, she would not have. She would leave Koss to resolve his own pon farr alone, resolving hers with Trip even though she knew the outcome would not benefit anyone in their family.


	6. Dad: Trip's Story, pt1

Note: A huge thanks to my betas, Dinah and Honeybee. These larger chapters are hard for me to work with and these two are absolute angels in the process.

Trip's story was hard for me to write and perhaps it shows, it definitely did in the time it took to complete this. Sorry about that.

.

* * *

**_November 19, 2161. Now._**

Trip had paced the floor of his living room before he finally settled on one end of the sofa. Thoughts slipped in and out of his mind quickly, and he realized he had little control over them.

Not that he wanted control.

Every time he tried to concentrate, he remembered T'Pol was due home any moment with news of their future, news of whether his strange little family would have a new addition to prepare for.

On the other side of the sofa, Koss sat quietly, calmly, but Trip wasn't fooled. Because of their low-level bond, he knew his husband's emotional control was almost non-existent.

Trip's mind snapped to the one thought. Husband. He had a husband. Even after so many years, Trip couldn't wrap his brain around the concept that he had a husband. How in the universe did that happen?

**_...March 5, 2155._**

Harris had given him a night of freedom before returning to his temporary life of espionage in Romulan Space the next morning.

The first and most important thing on his mind was to see T'Pol. Not as some stranger hidden in the shadows, but he needed to tell her, as Trip, what truly happened to him months ago. He didn't like the fact that he had to fake his own death, and he hated putting his family and T'Pol through the pain of believing he was dead.

After their daughter's death, Trip told himself that T'Pol felt nothing for him, that Baby Elizabeth's death marked the death of what could have been for the two of them. But the truth was that fatherhood took root in him and his daughter's death hit him hard.

He was the one that wanted to see an end to their relationship in every conversation, every glance they shared. Because it protected his heart that way.

But out there, on the edge of what could have been certain death, he'd realized just how important it was to connect with her again, if only to let her know he was alive, at least for the moment. But in his heart, he couldn't expect her forgiveness for what he'd put her through.

After he'd revealed himself to her, he left her in the room to allow everything to sink in. He told himself that it was best to separate because he would have to leave for Romulan space in the morning.

Who was he kidding?

Harris reserved a room at a hotel in San Francisco where many Vulcans chose to stay. Unfortunately, it did nothing but remind him of how isolated his life had become post-mortem, and he felt the walls of the small hotel room close around him.

It didn't take long before the urge to flee the ever closing walls caused him to almost sprint from his room and, finally, the hotel.

Direction was unimportant, but his body seemed to have a destination and he allowed it to go wherever it pleased.

It didn't surprise him to find a little hole-in-the-wall of a bar on a side street, playing jazz. T'Pol had once mentioned casually that she liked jazz. Not to mention, a drink would hit the spot at the moment.

Trip had almost forgotten that it would be un-Vulcan of him to drink alcohol so casually.

The music continued to pull him into the bar, and led him to a small wooden table in the far corner. The most beautiful woman he'd ever known was sitting there with her eyes closed and listening to the music. On the table was a glass of some liquid he was fairly sure wasn't tea.

"Huh," he thought to himself. "Perhaps it wasn't so un-Vulcan to have a drink."

But the only thing he'd ever seen a Vulcan drink was wine. And he was willing to bet that this was the hard stuff.

Trip pulled the chair up to the table and sat next to her. Long lashes lifted and brown eyes focused on him.

Her lips pressed tightly together and Trip wanted nothing more than to lean in and kiss them. Instead, he reminded himself of what was expected of a Vulcan. With a voice loud enough to hear over the music but low enough to be heard only by her sensitive ears, he explained to her, "I couldn't leave things that way."

And before he lost his nerve, he quickly added, "I love you."

In his heart he knew T'Pol would never say those words back to him, even if she felt such a thing for him. But he did feel something from her direction, much like a gentle wave of warmth. It was a flurry of emotions that weren't his own and they hinted at something he'd wondered about for quite some time.

"You should not do this now," she said flatly.

He reached for her hand and the moment their skin touched, he felt what she felt. T'Pol resented the fact that she was allowed to believe he'd died. But as much as she had grieved then, she quietly rejoiced now. And although she felt cheated out of a future with him, Trip felt a more powerful emotion flooding his mind... love.

Before he could control it, he knew he smiled at her. For quite a while he wondered if she felt even half of what he felt for her and now he finally had his answer. She did. She loved him as he loved her, and he felt a flush throughout his body. Remembering his Vulcan façade, he quickly removed the smile from his face but not from his mind or heart.

Leaning in to level his lips to her ear, he told her, "I have to leave in the morning." She loved him, he knew as certainly as if she'd said the words. No, he was more certain than that, because he felt what she felt for him, and he was in the mood to celebrate.

He rose from his chair and started toward the exit, knowing... sensing T'Pol behind him. They walked silently to her apartment building and when the door to her apartment closed behind them, they fused together in passion and... love.

When the morning came, Trip didn't want to leave her, but he had worlds to help protect. Gently, Trip kissed her forehead before leaving her apartment. He would help Harris protect Earth and all the other planets threatened by the Romulans. And then he could finally return to his life and to his world, T'Pol.

**_March 28, 2155._**

Trip rested his head on the silken pillow and stared at the ceiling of his room.

Things were going well with his latest Romulan identity, but that didn't change the fact that he was on Romulus. Since he'd left Earth, Trip hadn't had a good night's sleep. Every night when he lay in his alien bed, he feared it would be his last night.

This species was literally cut-throat when it came to politics. An alien spy had about two seconds to live, if revealed, and there was always a chance of a quick death for all while sleeping.

It was in these moments, near sleep but not quite, that he sensed T'Pol across space and time. A stray thought or feeling, or even sometimes his senses would play tricks on him. There were moments where he smelled her or heard her sultry tone whispering his name. But this time his mind slipped deeper into a peaceful state that resulted in a nothingness of glowing white around him.

He immediately recognized the empty, endless white light. It was where T'Pol spent her time meditating; he had been drawn into it twice before. There, in the center of the light was T'Pol.

"Trip," she called to him as she stood from her meditative posture and stared at him. Even in his mind, his breath caught in his throat at the sight of her. She was his angel, all practical and beautiful and surrounded by glowing bright light.

Part of him wondered if this was a dream. He'd thought about her every spare moment he'd had since leaving Earth.

From her, he felt a wave of something that took a moment for him to work out. It was an overwhelming sense of excitement and fear along with images like wisps of smoke that swirled and contracted into barely recognizable concepts. Pregnant. A baby.

The universe, and his thoughts, seized and this time Trip believed he was dreaming. But even in his wildest dreams, he never thought it would be possible. Pregnant. She was going to have a baby. They were going to have a baby. The basic concept was hard for him to grasp even as she approached him and held out her hand.

He took it without hesitating and instantly he saw what had happened to her in the Mess Hall, as well as the conversation with Phlox.

A baby. His mind's eye could see the image T'Pol had, at first, mistaken for a seahorse. But that wasn't a seahorse. It was a part of him and a part of her and Trip's purpose was suddenly renewed. He knew he had to complete his mission for the safety of Earth, Vulcan, T'Pol, and his... daughter. A girl.

Then, when this mission was finally over, he could return to his life and they could raise their baby together.

Someone in his room woke him, and the last emotion he sensed from T'Pol was an overwhelming fear. Fear was normal in this situation, he'd heard. New parents naturally experienced fears and it seemed Vulcans were no different.

**_April 19, 2155._**

Trip monitored the vessel's systems before checking on his passenger.

Setla slept peacefully on the bench of the shuttle, and since it seemed no one had tracked them from Romulus, Trip leaned back in the pilot's chair and closed his eyes. At least there was a moment to rest, but quietly he hoped for more.

In fact, he'd expected T'Pol to contact him for two days and spent every quiet moment hoping their minds would connect.

This time, as soon as his eyes closed, he found himself surrounded by the endless white of T'Pol's mind and the sudden shift in his surroundings took time to adjust. She called his name and steady waves of fear and confusion came from her. Combined with the fact that she'd taken so long to contact him, this had made him worry even more.

He rushed to her. "Are you okay? The baby? It's been days and I don't have much time." He wanted to tell her about his important passenger that would bring him to Vulcan for a short time, but his mind flooded with thoughts that he couldn't get a handle on. He tried to focus enough to get a clear picture of what was bothering her.

"We are well. I had difficulty with my meditation."

"Difficulty?" When T'Pol had difficulty meditating, something was definitely wrong. Trip couldn't think of anything else to do but reach out to her, touch her, even if it was only in their minds. The moment of contact flooded him with the full range of emotions as well as a few memories. But it took time to sort through so many at once.

He tried to work through them by describing each one aloud. "You're afraid. And I'm not talking about the kind you usually hide from everyone." But that wasn't an accurate description. What he felt was a fear so raw that it completely overwhelmed any hint of logic. "It feels... almost paralyzing."

There were clear images of imagined threats. He saw Elizabeth's last moments through T'Pol's eyes and the laughing faces of Paxton, Greaves, and other Terra Prime members rejoicing in her death.

Hiding in the shadows, more angry Humans with pitchforks and torches chased an exhausted T'Pol while she held a newborn tightly to her chest. In her wake, the road was littered with the bodies of the captain, Malcolm, and several other friends and former shipmates.

Suddenly, Trip regretted some of his choices for movie night. Still, her basic fear was not entirely unfounded. How many xenophobic psychopaths would be eagerly waiting for the opportunity to kill T'Pol or their baby? How many friends would lose their lives to protect them?

Her face moved away from his hand as more thoughts and emotions surfaced individually for him to sort through. "You want to hide that she is half human," he spoke to himself aloud, concentrating on the line of thought. "But you don't think people will believe she's fully Vulcan."

He couldn't help but feel hurt by that, but the new thoughts and feelings from her whisked his focus away from his own thoughts and feelings.

Although they weren't actually standing, merely mental projections of themselves, Trip felt a strange comfort as he paced the endless white of T'Pol's mind.

His work was important, for the safety of all of the people he cared about, but he had to find a way to ease T'Pol's mind. And, he had to admit, it was a good idea to find some way to protect their baby.

"I can't return for good. What I'm doing is too important, but if I return long enough to give a good dog and pony show," he began his suggestion, eager to tell her he was on his way to Vulcan at that very moment, "just enough to make everyone think I'm some kind of Vulcan merchant..."

"It's not enough, Trip," she shot down his suggestion quickly. "The timing of your official death is too close. An unknown merchant without established family or a past would only encourage speculation."

Although irritated by having his suggestion rebuffed so quickly, he realized she was right. He could see how some unknown Vulcan as father would be a little too convenient, not long after his "death."

But he couldn't think of anything else. "Then you can't hide the fact that she's half human."

This time T'Pol paced and Trip tried to hide his amusement. For good or bad, he was definitely rubbing off on her.

Surprising him, she quickly walked to him and placed her hand on his jaw. He thought it was a sign of affection but then thoughts and emotions pelted him like a hailstorm. It was hard to accept them all at once. Again, he had to take time to sort through them as he closed his eyes and allowed mental images and feelings to play in his mind.

"You had to go to the temple to meditate." He could see the ancient, stone temple and found it breath-taking. Maybe he would ask her to show it to him when he arrived on Vulcan.

He saw an image of an older woman and a name whispered in his mind. "Someone named Chaali." He felt the emotions attached to the memory and the reaction of his mind caused his body over the great distance to shiver. "So much fear."

The conversation played in his mind as though it were a movie shot from T'Pol's perspective. The woman suggested T'Pol marry a Vulcan. He heard T'Pol's initial refusal and felt a relieved exhale from his distant body. She and the priestess spoke of the telepathic bond and the conversation took a turn Trip was not prepared for: a marriage between the three of them. As he watched and listened to the conversation, he was sure T'Pol would quickly refuse it, just as she'd refused Chaali's earlier suggestion. But as the moments continued, he realized she didn't. She actually considered...

"Koss! After he forced you to marry him for the sake of your mother, you want to marry him again?"

The white light of their surroundings destabilized and almost seemed like it had broken into clouds as it swirled around them. He wasn't sure which one of them was doing it, but at this point, he didn't care.

"He did not force me to do anything."

It was official. The universe had turned upside-down around him and Trip was hanging on to reality by a thread. It was bad enough that she wanted to marry someone else but for it to be Koss? And now she was trying to defend him?

Trip remembered her confusion when she decided to marry the Vulcan man for the sake of her mother's career. He remembered when she reluctantly walked away from him and to Koss, to the ceremony binding her to that man.

Koss had put her in that position. He forced her to marry him, and now she was defending him for the sake of her insane plan.

"Oh sure, he didn't twist your arm literally, but holding your mother's career over your head is just as bad. I know how seriously Vulcans take their careers." He took a step away from her.

"Trip, Koss did not use the reinstatement of my mother's position as leverage. He was reminding me of a fact that would have been obvious to me if my mother had told me the truth about her 'retirement'."

She stepped closer and continued, "As his wife, his family would have been willing, if not obligated, to help. They would not have had any incentive to help someone who was not intimately connected with their family, especially a woman who had dishonored their family.

"I am certain Koss would have helped my mother if it were within his power to do so and would have made no demands of me," she insisted.

His mind reeled at how fiercely she defended the scum.

"It would be a marriage between the three of us," she told him quickly. "And Koss is the logical choice. His family is prominently established within Vulcan society. His inclusion into such a marriage would legitimize the assertion that the baby is Vulcan..."

For Trip, it was small comfort that he was at least included in this hair-brained scheme, but something deep inside him was numb and Trip didn't want to hear anymore. In fact, he wasn't very happy about seeing her at the moment. His mind continued their conversation on a kind of autopilot, "And why would he do that?"

"He has not found another to marry which means he has no obligations otherwise and he-"

There was no reason for her to continue, he already knew why. "And he's in love with you." The words left a bad taste in his mouth and something had finally snapped. Perhaps it was his heart or the autopilot of his mind, he wasn't sure. "I'm just a human and even I can see that. But the great big, fat elephant in the room you didn't mention is that, as his wife, you would be expected to meet his needs when his pon-farr comes around. What then?"

She avoided his eyes and Trip felt a strange kind of victory. If nothing else, he'd made it known that she could not sugar-coat the consequences of her plan. "I thought so."

He'd had enough. The last thing he'd heard her say before snapping back to his own mind, galaxies away, was, "What's required of me with him does not matter. Trip, I-"

Back in the Romulan ship, Trip's eyes snapped open and immediately landed on Setla. The tall, sleeping Romulan woman bent her legs just enough to fit on the bench that was far too narrow for her length.

Suddenly, Trip wasn't looking forward to his destination as he had before.

**_April 20, 2155._**

Trip turned dials, pushed buttons and the shudder of the ship caused his arm to bump against Setla's. Although, she recovered from the jostling faster than he could with her fingers punching at buttons, they both worked to free themselves from the patrol ship's attack.

They didn't have the proper identification codes to exit Romulan space and were paying the price.

One oxygen tank ruptured, leaking precious breathable air into the nothingness of space, and something within the distribution mechanism malfunctioned at the worst possible time. Trip wished he'd had time to study the ship's systems more beforehand.

It didn't take long before he found himself on the floor of the craft, gasping for air. He felt his lungs involuntarily struggle to take in enough oxygen, but his mind no longer thought of the loss of atmosphere or Romulans or technology. Even as he heard Setla call for him while continuing to work wildly at the controls, his eyes no longer saw the ceiling of the ship but blackness, and his thoughts shifted to T'Pol and their baby.

How could he have left things between them the way he had? They'd just lost a child and she was going to have his baby, now. Of course she was afraid for their daughter after what had happened to Elizabeth.

Thoughts came and went and Trip started to see a bigger picture. As his lungs fought to take in what little air there was to sustain him, he realized T'Pol would truly be alone to protect and raise their daughter. It finally dawned on him that this was always the more likely outcome and T'Pol understood that, although she never fully admitted it to him or perhaps even to herself.

In his mind he knew his mission was dangerous and yet he believed he could get through it unscathed and in only a year, tops. But as he lay there, somewhere between life and death, he realized that he was being unrealistic and unfair.

His chances of an early death were always high, but he didn't want to think about it. His chances of leaving his mission in a year were just as unrealistic, and yet, he expected T'Pol to accept his fantasies just as he did, against logic.

He heard Setla continue to work at the ship's console and Trip figured Romulans could function on much less oxygen, as their Vulcan cousins, and surely far less than humans. And then, just before everything around him faded completely, he rasped the one thought he wanted to die with.

"T'Pol"

* * *

T'Pau sat in her chair, her eyes scanning the PADD the human spy had handed her as he stood there waiting.

The woman seemed a bit young to be the Minister of Vulcan's Transitional Government, but when she spoke, there was no confusion as to who was in charge.

Setla stood beside Trip, quietly taking in their surroundings when T'Pau finally lifted her head. She looked at the two people standing in front of her, appraising them fully until finally her eyes rested on Setla. "We accept the terms. You may stay here on Vulcan in exchange for the information provided."

The young Romulan smiled, shattering any illusion that this was just another Vulcan in the room, and Setla thanked her softly. Surprisingly, T'Pau didn't seem irritated by the gesture. Trip figured T'Pau had had quite a bit of exposure to humans by now and may have even found Setla's response refreshingly less emotional.

With a nod from T'Pau to the guards at the door, Setla was escorted out of the room and Trip sighed in relief that the young woman was not turned away.

He did owe her his life, after all. If it weren't for her skills and quick thinking, they would never have made it out of the Romulan territories. She found a way to access the reserve oxygen tank, she bluffed her way through two checkpoints and raced to the protection of the Vulcan starships Trip had planned to rendezvous with, and she did all while Trip lay there unconscious.

"Do you believe this woman will be helpful, Commander?" she asked him immediately after the doors closed behind Setla and her escorts.

Trip nodded. "I do. Don't be fooled by her youth, Minister. She's young, but she was a feisty rebel with many connections and is very dedicated to a less aggressive Romulus."

T'Pau nodded and stood from her desk. "The message you requested was sent. I presume you will remain on Vulcan for a time to recover from your ordeal and... tend to any personal matters you may have."

Trip knew what the Vulcan woman really meant, and she was absolutely right.


	7. Dad: Trip's Story, pt2

Chapter note: This is the last section in Trip's chapter. The next chapter will be from the perspective of Koss.

.

* * *

**_April 24, 2155._**

The conversation did not go as well as he'd hoped. He'd arranged it so that he could meet Koss and T'Pol at her mother's house to work out the details of that strange three-way marriage idea.

T'Pol barely said a word, and Koss said nothing as Trip laid everything out on the table. He revealed himself to Koss and wondered if he would regret it. Could the man be trusted with that sensitive information?

Pushing the thought to the side, he continued and explained that he was quite aware that his chances of returning from the mission were slim at best, and even if he did return, it would be years until he could.

He brought up the idea of a three-way marriage and that, although he wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea, he liked the idea of leaving T'Pol and the baby alone a lot less.

T'Pol said nothing as she stood and walked out of the room. Embarrassment, regret, annoyance were just some of the things he sensed from her and decided it was best that she did leave. Let her have her time to think things through while he had a little heart to heart with Koss.

As one would expect from a Vulcan, Koss sat and expressed nothing of what he felt about the proposal. Then it suddenly hit Trip that he was, in fact, proposing to them both. Trip had, for years, imagined what he would do when he proposed to the woman he loved. In the last few years, the faceless, nameless female was replaced with full-lips, wide brown eyes, pointed ears that responded to the name T'Pol.

This was definitely not what he had in mind.

Trip dropped down to a cushioned seat opposite Koss and stared at him for a long moment. "I don't like you very much," Trip began, but Koss interrupted.

"And I do not prefer your company," he responded in a typically haughty Vulcan tone.

Shaking his head in frustration, Trip had to admit that all of this was not going very well. He had to say what he had to say without ambiguity.

"Look Koss, I want what's best for T'Pol and the baby..." he began again and this time when Koss was about to speak, Trip shot him an exasperated look that the Vulcan seemed to understand quite well. "... and I know you love T'Pol and want what's best for her. And for some reason she feels more comfortable with you as a third. Koss, this is what's best for her."

Koss looked away and Trip wasn't sure if the man had decided to ignore him or was actually contemplating his words, until Koss returned his gaze.

"What had happened to your daughter was appalling. No one should experience such a thing twice." His focus shifted towards the front door and most likely beyond as he continued, "However, my family will require time to accept a... merchant. But I believe my eldest uncle, Sulor, could help resolve the matter quickly."

"Whatever it is you have to do to make this work, Koss. And for my part, I've already sent word that I will need a cover family for this."

The man stood and walked toward the door but before exiting, he turned. "I am not physically attracted to you. I would insist that we not explore a sexual relationship in this marriage."

"Koss, buddy, that's something you will never have to worry about."

**_April 30, 2155._**

"I have to say, I never thought I'd have a mission like this," Mark whispered. The way Mark managed a jovial personality behind a rigid Vulcan exterior so easily left Trip in awe. Mark was definitely a master at the Vulcan mask of indifference while there was something completely different underneath.

Harris did his part, sending Mark to represent Trip's "Vulcan" family as Samok. Officially, Trip's persona was a Vulcan from one of the outer colonies Mark had been assigned to. It also happened to be the closest to the Romulan territories.

T'Pol and T'Kaala entered the chamber and Trip glanced at the woman he recognized as T'Pol's cousin, but his eyes couldn't help but focus on only one woman. She was a vision and Trip couldn't breathe for a moment when he remembered that she was going to be his wife and growing within her was their baby.

The universe seemed only for them as her eyes met his, until Koss entered with his uncle and they were followed by the priestess Chaali. It was Trip's reminder that T'Pol wouldn't be his alone and there was a pain that throbbed inside him when he thought about it for too long.

But he pushed it aside, reminding himself of why he'd agreed to this arrangement. He had his mission, to help secure allied planets but most of all Earth and Vulcan. No one knew how long it would take for him to complete his mission and the odds of his survival decreased every day.

T'Pol didn't want Koss as her husband, but she was more comfortable with him than any other possibility. At least Trip was sure of this from what he felt through their bond. And although he didn't like the idea of leaving Koss to play husband, there was some comfort in knowing that someone cared for her in his absence.

Chaali motioned for everyone to come closer, and Trip walked with Mark as the man surgically altered to look like a Romulan whispered from his unyieldingly unemotional mask, "A Vulcan wife and husband? You're a braver man than me. It must be love."

Trip stood beside T'Pol and Koss standing on her other side as all three waited for the priestess to being.

"All three are aware that each one of you, today, will promise devotion to not just one mate but two?" The Vulcan priestess spoke her words slowly and carefully, perfect for someone not strong enough with the Vulcan language to follow. But it was Chaali's eyes that gave a chill down Trip's spine. She was speaking to all three, but her eyes lingered a little longer on him, assuring that he understood just what he was doing.

He nodded with the other two standing before the priestess and in his mind repeated the words that felt unnatural and yet, were going to become a huge part of his life, "promise devotion to not one mate but two."

**_May 5, 2155._**

Trip walked around the fountain of T'Pol's mother's home once again. He would have to return to Romulan space and his mission, but he didn't want to leave T'Pol. For the first time he was happy, even with Koss around.

He had to admit, Koss was being very considerate, making every effort to give him time alone with T'Pol. Trip wondered if it were the other way around, would he be as gracious?

But duty called, and the future of his home-world and this world were at stake. He took another walk around the fountain and even considered his old idea of running away with T'Pol to one of the outer colonies. Ultimately he'd come back to the same conclusion he had come to weeks before. If the allied planets were to fall, there would be nothing to stop the Romulans from conquering the rest of the inhabited planets of the Alpha Quadrant.

There was no way around it. He had to go; he had to leave her again. This was the very reason why he'd agreed to include Koss in the marriage.

"Trip?" T'Pol closed her robe and from the torchlight her skin glowed, highlighted by the subtle shimmer of her robe.

"Sorry I woke you up," he apologized as he walked toward her, "I'm having trouble sleeping."

T'Pol's gaze fell to the side then rose back up to meet his and seemed to accompany an idea. Trip wondered if she were going to offer neuropressure.

"I have heard it said that humans have more success sleeping after vigorous activity," she stated matter-of-factly, then added innocently. "I could help you if you so desire."

Since his return to Vulcan, they'd made love each morning and night and sometimes during the day. T'Pol had mentioned once, after a particularly active night, that Vulcan women were known to "require more sexual attention" during early pregnancy.

Because of the bond between them, his body responded to her desire, and Trip had never been "ready" so much and with very little down time in his life.

Not that he was complaining. He loved spending each waking moment this way, and that was his problem. He had to leave. The transport would pick him up in two days and he wasn't sure if he would ever return to experience this again.

Not to mention, he had one very uncomfortable thought. If Vulcan women were so "in the mood" during early pregnancy, what happens when they have no mate to tend to them? The answer fluttered in the periphery of his mind and he tried desperately to keep it there.

T'Pol had another mate available. Another mate that was more than willing to share his bed with her.

His mind wandered so much so that he initially didn't realize there was a small, slender hand extended toward him.

In a few days, he would be back in Romulan space and when or even if he returned was the constant question. What would happen between T'Pol and Koss while he was away was just as uncertain, but one thing was for sure...

With a sigh, he took her hand and she pulled him close. Her lips brushed his and slid slowly to his ear. "Trip," she called for him, more breath than voice and it sealed the last thought in his mind. At least at the moment, he was here with her and they only had eyes for each other. He was going to make the most of each day left.

**_July 7, 2155._**

With the position of aide to one of the more prominent Senators of the Romulan Senate, a position only those well connected could obtain, Trip heard and saw more than he would have otherwise. It was literally a lifesaver that a few of Setla's contacts were so very well connected.

But his very important position also meant that his daily communications with T'Pol through their bond were reduced to weekly exchanges. The two had spent little time with conversation since most of it was spent satisfying T'Pol's physical needs.

Unfortunately, sexual contact through the bond wasn't as efficient as actual physical touch and T'Pol's appetite was not to be denied. If what he felt through the bond was any indication, he wouldn't be able to function on a daily basis if he had her drive.

With little more than a word or two and their names, this meeting, like the ones before it, became a blur of touching and kissing. Except for what was from memory, the lack of senses during their intimacy all but killed the effect, but at least gave T'Pol a few days of level-headed thinking.

T'Pol cuddled close to him as they lay on the floor of nothingness, mentally exhausted and surrounded by bright, endless light. Her eyes slowly closed and the next thing he knew, he was back in his Romulan apartment.

**_September 13, 2155._**

T'Pol stood away from him, surrounded by the glowing white of her mind and something was very different. It wasn't anything in her visual representation or the white nothingness around them. It was something that he could only sense.

Taking a step in her direction, he'd become concerned when she took a step away from him.

His stomach tightened when he realized that her eyes avoided his. Even though it wasn't like they were really face to face, but it was real enough and apparently it was enough to make her uncomfortable.

"T'Pol, what is it?"

Finally, her eyes reached his then darted away just as quickly. Her mouth tightened then trembled then she closed her eyes. Trip could see that she was trying desperately to regain control of herself.

"Just say what it is."

She blurted, "Koss and I..." but didn't finish. She didn't have to.

Hurt and confused, he was also oddly relieved that at least no one died. Although, with all that he felt about the situation, Trip knew this would eventually happen. How could it not? He was away and Koss was always there.

She turned away from him and Trip took the opportunity to walk to her, to touch her. In that instant, he felt her pain, her confusion, her anger at what had happened, her loss of control as her primitive instincts overpowered her. He felt the events and thankfully there were no visuals.

The pregnancy and her unstable hormones caused logic to take a back seat and her instincts took over. She sought out her mate, the only one available at the time... Koss.

Trip could sense that she felt she'd betrayed him and herself with the one act and regretted the arrangement the three had entered into.

He pulled her into his arms and quietly held her, hoping that it was enough for her to sense what he was feeling. There was hurt, but he understood that this was inevitable. That he was not angry with her, or even with Koss.

Suddenly, Trip realized what was different about their meeting. It wasn't a thing, it was a person. Through T'Pol, Trip felt Koss. The Vulcan man's presence was like the low buzz of electronics, where you could not consciously hear it but aware of it nonetheless.

What had happened between them had strengthened their bond and Trip couldn't help but feel his loneliness more now. And his fears of being the intruder in their marriage crept in. But in the end, although his heart couldn't, his mind accepted that T'Pol did what she had to do.

Releasing her gently from his embrace, Trip reached for her face and cupped her jaw in his hands. This time, she couldn't turn away from him and he willed her to look in his eyes.

Reluctantly, T'Pol did and Trip forced a warm smile. "It's okay. What we have is bigger than this," he whispered to her before kissing her mental projection.

**_December 20, 2156._**

"They have begun," T'Pol told him. He'd wondered when he was going to get this warning; it was getting closer to that time.

She'd told him that Vulcan women experienced labor spasms well in advance and here it was, the three week countdown before their baby was brought into the Vulcan world. Phlox had already been notified as well, and Trip was determined to find a way to excuse himself from his position for a brief time, without raising any Romulan eyebrows about it.

Setla's connections had spent resources getting him a position as a Senator's aide, and he'd spent months cultivating trust among key politicians to throw it away casually, but he was determined to see the birth of his daughter.

His one glimmer of hope was Rhema, one of Setla's contacts, working to create a plausible reason for him to be called away.

**_January 24, 2156._**

T'Mir slept in the crook of T'Pol's arm as they lay in their bed and Trip couldn't help but stare at the tiny miracle. Was this how Elizabeth looked when she took her first breaths? His heart soared and ached at the same time. His mind could not help but think of their lost daughter while he welcomed his new one into the universe.

Koss walked into the room quietly and set a tray of food on the end-table before looking at T'Mir and leaving as quietly as he'd come in.

The man was beyond helpful. He'd helped bring T'Pol into her bedroom and while Trip was lost in the moment of his new family, Koss and Phlox removed the bedding from the birthing chaise while tidying the room afterwards. Koss was the dutiful husband that left Trip wondering what the hell was he, then?

Was he nothing more than the stranger interrupting their quiet lives with his notion of being father and husband? Was he the intruder in their marriage as he'd originally seen Koss to be?

Trip pulled himself up and was ready to leave the bed when T'Pol grabbed his arm firmly. Her eyes targeted his and she spoke the words that made him understand his role, at least in her life, "You are the one I think of every morning when I awaken and every night before I sleep. And now, I think of you every time I look at her as well. I love you."

His legs nearly gave way as he held the bed to steady himself. The last three words hit him harder than the rest. He'd never expected to ever actually hear them from her lips.

**_April 21, 2156._**

After a particularly close call that almost exposed his Human identity to two Senators, Trip was thankful he was still alive to meet T'Pol through their bond. These were the days that reminded him that he'd made the right decision for her and T'Mir.

In the white space of T'Pol's mind, Trip could see T'Pol's mental image of T'Mir in the Vulcan version of a bassinet. It rocked and she cooed as he and T'Pol spoke of events since their last communication. But there was something that had pressed his thoughts for some time.

"I want my family to know her," he told T'Pol and his head motioned in the direction of the visual representation of their daughter. The instant he said it, he felt emotions well inside his wife, but before she could say a word, he added, "I've given it a lot of thought."

He paced their empty, bright white meeting room. "It doesn't have to be all the time. It could be whenever you see Phlox or the captain. You could bring them with you to make it seem like a crew gathering of some sort."

The feelings he sensed from her didn't go away, but they did die down, and Trip decided it would be better if he let her think about it.

**_October 4, 2161._**

"I cry, too," T'Mir whispered in his ear and Trip felt most of his fears melt away. He'd waited so long for this day, to live with his family and watch his daughter grow up with his own eyes, but he couldn't quell the nagging fear that his daughter would reject her human half.

It was one thing to meet the strange human family that insisted on calling her a granddaughter, but it was another to learn that she was actually related to them.

With her simple statement, Trip realized T'Mir was aware that something set her apart from other Vulcan children.

"I know," he told her and couldn't help but smile, hoping T'Pol and Koss standing near them would hide his inappropriate Vulcan behavior from others in the port. He shared his secret with her: "You get that from me."

Her glowing smile hinted that she at least felt comfortable with sharing her oddities with a parent but, as Vulcans, it wasn't the time or place to flaunt their Humanness and so Trip's smile quickly faded as she mirrored him.

But she didn't move. In fact, T'Mir stared at him, studying him closer as her head tilted to the side and her eyes scanned his face. Trip could swear it was like having a miniature T'Pol appraise him.

It wasn't until they'd reached their new home, boxes piled almost to the ceiling, that the three adults sat together and explained to their small child that she was half human. Three parents gathered around her, ready to love and comfort her in a time when very confusing news had been given.

But Trip couldn't forget her reaction. It reminded him of something he would say. "Huh," T'Mir's head cocked to the side slightly, looking very much like her mother, "that explains a lot."

**_October 15, 2161._**

The two-story farmhouse bustled with people from those casually walking around the property to the group clustered on the porch steps.

Trip recognized each and every face among the throng of humans. This was his family after all. Uncles, aunts, cousins, all gathered for their family reunion.

A girl not much younger than T'Mir craned her neck from her mother's lap to look in their direction as they exited the shuttle. "T'Mir!" she called out as she began her sprint toward them.

Unlike the human child, T'Mir stood still and quiet with her parents. There was nothing more than a hint in her eye that she was even interested in the girl approaching.

"Hello," the girl stood in from of what was supposed to be four Vulcans, her hands held behind her back and desperately trying to restrain a wide, toothy grin.

T'Pol tilted her head in acknowledgement. "Hello, Elizabeth." T'Pol had mentioned that the name had become quite a common name for girls among his family. The last count was six.

There was a look between the two girls and T'Mir lifted her head to her parents, an unspoken request. T'Pol nodded and T'Mir walked away with Elizabeth. They didn't get far before Elizabeth wrapped her arms around T'Mir's neck and Trip heard her say, "I missed you!"

However, his attention had been wrenched away by the very boisterous woman bounding for them from the front door. All those on the steps parted, else get trampled.

"T'Pol!" Gracie called. Trip tried desperately to hold back a smile. It was the most awkward thing he'd ever seen as his very affectionate mother wrapped her arms tightly around his very reserved Vulcan wife. T'Pol patted his mother's back a couple of times in returned and stiffened, signaling that she'd reached her limit of displaying affection publicly.

"Koss, good to see you too!" she said with no less excitement as she held out a hand, and Trip was surprised to see him shake it without hesitation.

When his mother's eyes fell on him, Trip wanted to tell her everything. He wanted to grab his mother and hold her tightly and tell her that her son hadn't died. That he missed her and his father, but that would never happen.

Not for the same reason years ago when he and T'Pol married Koss to conceal their daughter's human heritage, but for political reasons that asked him for one last sacrifice... his identity, forever.

Officially, Charles Tucker III was dead and it would be that way in history forever.

During the formation of the Federation, politicians agreed that all intelligence collected during the Romulan War would be shared among the planets. Vulcans did not like the idea of the worlds knowing just how closely related they were to the Romulans.

Section 31 buried the information starting with their operatives. In Trip's case, his Human identity died and therefore would remain so. He didn't mind losing his old life, he had his wife and daughter with him everyday, now. But as he watched his mother greet him as a stranger, he began to mourn the death of what was and could never be again.

Did she recognize her son in his alien face? Did his mother sense that the stranger was not actually a stranger? After a polite but awkward introduction, Gracie Tucker shook his hand politely.

The one person in the world he was sure would recognize him, even if only subconsciously, didn't have an inkling that she just shook the hand of her son.

She waved for the three of them to follow her into the house, and just before reaching the front steps, his mother turned for a moment and took a long look at him as she held her finger to her chin. It was something he'd seen her do when trying to work something out in her mind. Trip lowered his head enough so that no one could see his face as he struggle to keep from smiling.

**_November 19, 2161. Now  
_**

The sound of the front door clicked open and both men stood in anticipation. Trip felt his heart racing and the emotions flowed through the bond. Koss wanted this... he wanted it more than anything he'd ever wanted in his life. Trip could sense it.

Part of him hoped Koss would get his wish, but most of him didn't and Trip wasn't sure which part of him was right under the circumstances. Was there even a "right" under these circumstances?

T'Mir walked down the hall first and turned to see her fathers staring at her... or more like beyond her. Koss lifted his hand and shaped a "v" at the same time Trip greeted her with a warm, "Hey, Grease-monkey."

With a sigh, T'Mir returned the hand gesture half-heartedly to both, readjusted her sack of school PADDs and continued to her room.

T'Pol then entered. Her wide eyes glanced in Trip's direction then landed on her other husband's gaze. Her head shook, almost imperceptibly so, and Trip felt the rush of hidden emotions. It took a moment for him to realize that they weren't from T'Pol but from Koss.

Disappointment. It was a deep disappointment that even made Trip's heart ache, but to his Vulcan credit, Koss stood as though nothing had happened.

He'd hoped for a baby of his own. Trip knew the man wanted his time as father and husband, but this just wasn't it.

Would there ever be? He sensed relief from T'Pol that echoed his own, and Trip wondered if there would ever be a day when he and T'Pol would be okay with Koss as the father of her baby.

"What's wrong with the little Grease-monkey?" Trip tried to change the subject.

"She is disappointed that she will not have a sibling," T'Pol replied tonelessly. So much for changing the subject.

Koss closed his eyes and breathed deeply before attempting to leave the room. T'Pol stepped to the side, blocking his exit and held out her two fingers.

"I require meditation, T'Pol," he told her simply, but she did not allow him to pass when he tried to walk around her.

Trip walked up to them and held his two fingers to T'Pol's. It was not in the formation typical of Vulcan couples, but what they'd come to know as a formation for three. For good or bad, it was a "promise not just to one mate but two." Both looked to Koss expectantly.


	8. Father: Koss's Story, pt1

This chapter is broken into 3 parts. This is part 1.

I can't thank my betas, Dinah & Honeybee, enough for helping me with these long chapters.

* * *

.

_**April 6, 2171. Now.  
**_Koss could feel in his chest the vibration of a weapon's discharge as it hit the ground near them. Soil exploded into chunks of compacted dirt and pavement, misting into a fine powder that rendered the air difficult to breathe.

Trip urged T'Pol to lead them to the nearby cave for shelter as she gripped little Char'les tightly in one arm and held her daughter's hand in the other. Koss decided to stay back, hopefully to protect his family from anyone that followed.

Although Klingons managed to make their way past Vulcan defenses, Koss was certain Romulans were behind the attack. Since the formation of the Federation, the Romulans were quiet, and there had been rumors of a Romulan-Klingon alliance in the works.

One last look back: Koss saw T'Pol, Char'les, and T'Mir rush into the cave, which had long ago been converted into a shelter. Its intended purpose was protection against the occasionally extreme Vulcan weather, but it could also serve as protection from invaders. Koss only hoped that it would protect his family long enough for Federation help to come.

Standing his ground firmly, Koss waited with his phaser drawn and eyes scanning the rocky terrain. If not for the low hum of their bond, he would have been startled when Trip came to stand next to him.

Heavy footsteps could be heard from the hills close by and Trip's body tensed. Without thinking about it, Koss and Trip knew instinctively where to individually point their phasers for the best coverage as a team. It was one of the many benefits of their bond.

Five large Klingons rushed from behind the hills and both Koss and Trip began firing, their bond guiding them to not fire the same target at the same time. One fell within moments while two dropped shortly thereafter, but not before one of them spoke into a communication device.

The last two Klingons charged at them. The one that attacked Trip, the largest among the original five, growled and swung his metal weapon relentlessly. For such a large, lumpy being, he was quite agile, and Koss was concerned that it would test the limits of his mate's stamina.

Koss, however, used little effort in his battle with the massive creature of a man. Fortunately, he had been trained since childhood in several disciplines of Vulcan hand-to-hand defense and the one that seemed most effective was using an enemy's energy against them.

The Klingon swung his weapon once more at Koss, and the sharp outer edge barely missed his abdomen but opened a perfect opportunity. Arms lifted and recovering from the swing, Koss clasped both hands together and swung at the alien man's exposed ribcage.

A sudden breath was forced out of the man as he leaned forward, which presented yet another opportunity. Koss's knee came up without hesitation, and the Klingon fell back unconscious.

For a moment, Koss considered leaving him there. But the logic of their circumstances demanded otherwise. His phaser was not far from him on the ground, and he picked it up and pointed it in the direction of the Klingon man. Its setting would be fatal.

He'd never killed a living being in cold blood before and hesitated. But if left alive, the Klingon might have the opportunity to hurt or even kill a member of his family.

Conflict dissolved after his finger pressed the trigger.

His mind returned to the moment as he saw Trip struggling against the hulking Klingon. He lifted the phaser in their direction, but could not target the Klingon without the possibility of hitting his mate.

Returning the weapon to his holster, Koss entered the fray and distracted the nimble, yet behemoth man. The Klingon swung his weapon at both of them and they responded with a quick jump back.

After Trip's simultaneous and identical response, Koss marveled at the benefits of their bond. The bond was quite handy in these situations, and Koss wondered why his people had ever allowed the telepathic practice to fall into obscurity.

Amused, Koss stood to the side with arms folded and watched Trip avoid the Klingon man's efforts with little of his own. One move, a more advanced technique, left the Klingon man on the ground ready to recover and Trip standing over him ready to continue their fight. It was not logical.

A blast of his phaser ended it, and Koss stood waiting for Trip to realize it was finally over.

The human breathed deeply and his body relaxed but remained alert. When another blast hit between them, Koss fell to the side and Trip dove in the opposite direction. Trip quickly reached for his phaser on the ground and lifted his hand, ready in seconds. Both lashed phaser-fire outward in the enemy's direction when both heard a tiny voice call for them.

Trip turned to see Char'les running toward him and instinctively moved to pick up the tiny body toddling quickly toward him. Their wife trailed behind but was in full sprint with a look of panic Koss had never seen openly on her face before.

A blast hit its mark and Trip collapsed to the ground just before little Char'les had reached him.

Losing the battle to remain calm, Koss began spraying the hills with phaser blasts. He did not care if he actually hit one of his enemies, but rather to keep them from shooting at his family.

But there was only so much he could do before his phaser lost its charge.

**_2097._**  
Koss and his parents approached a dwelling built in an old country style that was not unpleasant, aesthetically. The stone and tile was a welcome change from the concrete and metal of their very modern apartment in the city.

His parents made their way across the unfamiliar courtyard as Koss trailed behind, maintaining a pace he calculated would keep him hidden and would generate the least attention possible.

He did not find the circumstances of this visit palatable, not since betrothals, pon-farr, and sex had been explained to him. In fact, his eleven year old mind did not appreciate the idea of any of them.

At the door, a man greeted them with the traditional "v" shape of his hand and introduced himself as Lorian. From the conversation between the three adults, Koss could glean that his parents had never met the man and had discussed the arrangement solely with Lorian's wife.

The man invited the three visitors inside his home and Koss quietly sat in one of the chairs, evidently arranged for them in the central area. T'Les appeared from one side of the house and greeted Koss and his parents traditionally.

When she took her seat, there was a small girl that stood behind her, only revealed now that there was no one to hide behind. Her medium brown hair was cut in a very conservative style for females, a style almost identical to that of males.

Her large eyes darted from new face to new face, perhaps trying to find something familiar or assuring.

His mother appraised the young girl and skeptically asked, "Are you sure she is of nine years?"

"Yes," T'Les answered.

"Koss, stand with T'Pol," his father said to him, and obediently, Koss took his place beside the small girl's side.

Very short and very thin even by Vulcan standards, the girl... T'Pol seemed too young to have this unfair responsibility forced on her. The idea of her having to endure it irritated him. Suddenly, he realized that he felt protective of the small child standing next to him and acutely aware of her large brown eyes on him.

As she stared, he marveled at the green flecks sparkling at him. And the firm set of her jaw hinted of strength in there somewhere, hidden behind a serene, innocent face and a tiny, fragile body.

She was special, he thought to himself as her eyes moved on to the adult faces appraising them as a couple.

Koss stood tall and proud as his resolve solidified. He would be her protector and care for her.

**_2104._**  
Koss followed the acolyte along the corridor and marveled at the design of the carved walls. A structure shaped long before technology made the labor a non-issue, he calculated the amount of effort and care that was required for such a task.

The formation of the long and winding halls was a magnificent achievement for their ancestors, and he had to suppress the instinct to touch the chiseled surfaces.

Passing several chambers along the way, there was one meditation chamber filled with Vulcans of all ages, but there was another one that caught his attention. A thin, young female sat crossed-legged facing the priestess, Chaali, his family's long-time leader of logic and meditation. Their eyes were closed and Koss could not help but stop and stare.

Perhaps sensing a shift in energy or sound, T'Pol became aware of someone standing at the door and opened her eyes. They were the same eyes he'd seen years ago in the country home of Lorian and T'Les, filled with innocence and a hidden fire. He nodded in her direction, and she returned the gesture just before Chaali opened her eyes and focused on him.

Suddenly, Koss was keenly aware of his indiscretion and continued down the corridor to find the acolyte.

**_2121._**  
Koss and his colleague prepared for yet another meeting on the design plans for a new class of Vulcan ships. Many promising proposals had been rejected and one explanation after another was given, but all of them had one underlying reason, bureaucratic inefficiency.

His companion watched as the line of new recruits for the Ministry of Security snaked around the main entrance hall. A medium-brown-haired recruit, her hair cut shorter than typical traditional Vulcan fashion, caught Koss's attention as they continued past him and his colleague. For a moment, her eyes found his.

"It is rumored that this collection of recruits will have training in a specialized skill set."

"Do you know what set of skills will be acquired?" Koss asked his colleague and the only response he was given was a perplexed expression that said more than words would have in such an abbreviated amount of time.

It was not his business to know the specialized training of the recruits, even if one of them was to be his wife one day.

**_2136._**  
Koss stared out of the portal of his quarters and watched the light of stars rush by at warp speed.

His assignment to assist the residents of a Vulcan colony in fortifying their dwellings against their planet's frequent seismic activity required a journey through space. It was only logical that he journey aboard the _Seleya_. He found it a favorable coincidence that it was also the ship his future wife had been assigned to.

His door chimed and he opened it with his hand pressed to the panel. The door slid open to reveal his young betrothed, waiting.

"My captain informed me that you wished to see me." Her hair had lengthened since he'd last seen her in the Ministry of Security. The large eyes that spoke of innocence and vulnerability were no longer there, replaced by orbs of caution and rigidity.

"I believed it prudent to establish some communication with you, as we will marry one day."

T'Pol's head, only now, turned in the same direction as her eyes to focus on him fully. Her lips tightened and her jaw muscles flexed. "Perhaps. However, it is unnecessary."

"Perhaps unnecessary for the sole purpose of procreation, but I would prefer to acquaint myself with the woman that I will spend the rest of my life with."

The words had no effect on her as she stared beyond him. Koss wondered if he'd lost that wide-eyed, quiet warrior he once stood beside and silently vowed to protect. Suddenly, he felt the cold possibility that he'd failed her somehow.

**_June 21, 2151._**  
"How dare she betray her people!" His father spoke at a pitch that more than hinted of emotion as he all but threw the hand-held communication device across the table at Koss. Koss found his father's unsightly behavior fascinating.

According to his father, and to an extent his mother as well, such an emotional response was a clear sign of a weak mind. At least that was what he'd been told since childhood.

Koss allowed himself to feel the glimmer of smug satisfaction before suppressing it by pushing it into another compartment of his mind and picking up the device.

Before reading, he sensed the fury involved his future wife somehow, and as he read the description of her actions, exposing the hidden outpost at P'Jem and handing sensitive information over to the Andorians, he couldn't help but feel a certain level of pride. She had principles, and regardless of what his father and mother said at the moment, that was more important than anything else.

"The Council wants her here, but it would be wise for her to come to us before any communication with the Council. We must determine the correct approach so that she does not take our family down with hers in dishonor."

At first, Koss was certain they would demand the dissolution of their betrothal but was surprised when his mother requested that he communicate with T'Pol and demand her immediate return to Vulcan to fulfill her marriage obligations. They reluctantly agreed to her original request of postponement, but now his mother and father wanted him to convey just how unpleased they were with the situation. Also, they made it clear that he was not to mention their true motivation behind the matter.

Although he would never admit it to anyone, particularly his parents, Koss hoped she would glean from his communication what his parents truly wished from her and decline his request. There was no rush for marriage; he had a career to concentrate on and she had hers. Also, he preferred that she continue lighting the fire that once smoldered behind green-flecked brown eyes, hidden all those years ago.

_**December 15, 2152.**_  
"The _Seleya_ is lost," his father told Koss and his mother at their table. Koss understood the tragedy of the loss; it was the crown jewel of Vulcan's scientific fleet after all. Even so, he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief.

One hundred and forty-seven Vulcans were presumed dead. But what was more important, to him at least, was that T'Pol was not among them.

Over four years ago, he'd asked his father to use his significant influence within Vulcan High Command to evaluate her profile among the top five candidates. When Koss had learned that she'd submitted her profile for assistant to one of the most prominent ambassadors of their time, he knew it was an appropriate career move for her.

It was her "special skill set" that gave her an advantage over the others and she was highly regarded and expected to achieve great things in such a position. It was unfortunate that she chose to extend her temporary assignment aboard the Human ship. But at least, Koss thought to himself, she was alive and well.

"The news is most unfortunate for our people," he managed to say flatly, although his heart did not quite feel it.

_**April 23, 2154**._  
The communication from T'Les could not have come at a more opportune time. His betrothed was on a transport to Vulcan at the moment and Koss could not help but feel it was more than coincidence. Koss, following the ancient tradition, began to draft his hand-written letter to his wife-to-be.


	9. Father: Koss's Story, pt2

**_April 28, 2154._**  
Koss sat on the chair waiting for T'Pol to come from her bedroom. The Human she'd brought home from the Human starship currently immersed himself in the repair of the home's food synthesizer. After the initial encounter at the door, the two men avoided eye-contact.

T'Pol emerged from the bedroom end of the house and her eyes glanced in the Human's direction before focusing on Koss. Without a word, the two Vulcans made their way to the front door and outside to the front garden.

"I want to hear about your life aboard the Human ship. You must have many... fascinating stories," he started their conversation. How she managed to stay among Humans for so long perplexed him.

"Why are you here?"

Not certain of why T'Pol would ask a question for which she fully knew the answer, it was his turn to state what was apparent. "The answer should be obvious."

"You've received my letters," she began, and Koss remembered her letter informing him that she would not marry him. He'd sent her a response reminding her of their commitment to their families and the next letter he received was a simple statement. "I would prefer not to communicate with you again."

He did as she'd requested. It was when he'd received word from her mother that she was to return to Vulcan and with the... encouragement... of his parents and T'Les, he decided to communicate with her again. He'd hoped that she might find some benefit to their union, at least to make it a little more palatable.

T'Pol continued as she walked away from him, "You know I'm not interested in marriage."

The argument seemed hopelessly circular as Koss reiterated exactly what he'd explained in a letter. "The decision isn't ours alone. My parents believe in the old traditions. For them, a betrothal cannot be simply dismissed."

It was the truth, but it was not the entire truth. His parents held to the old traditions as faithfully as other species held to their religion, but their greatest motivation was to have T'Pol's family line merge with theirs. A very special bloodline, second only to direct descendents of Surak, many sought to become a part of it through marriage.

But even more importantly for Koss was that he'd always felt something for the strange woman that could never fit into their society. For years he secretly thought of her, and for years he suppressed the excitement of one day having her as his wife.

"You have the option of choosing another mate," she countered and Koss knew his answer the moment the words came from her mouth.

"I don't want another mate," he spoke aloud his hidden truth.

"You should be aware that I've been ill recently."

Koss felt his body tense at the news. "Ill?" In his mind, he tried to list illnesses that would not display any outward symptoms.

"It could take some time for me to recover, assuming it's even possible."

Concerned for her well-being, Koss thought of a solution for his future wife. "I can help. My father's a man of influence. He knows the finest doctors in the province."

A small part of him believed there was more to the situation than T'Pol's desire to break from tradition. There was something she would not admit to him and suddenly he thought of the Human in her home.

If this was the case, Koss could not find the logic in such a decision. How could a Human mate accommodate her needs as a Vulcan woman? Suddenly it occurred to him that her illness could have compromised her mental state. Regardless, Koss believed following tradition, a Vulcan marriage, was best for her in the end. "I intend to go through with this."

"What if I declared the kalifee?"

Somehow he had expected this. The moment he saw the Human male in her home, the possibility of a challenge entered into the equation, whether he acknowledged it or not. "Is that what you want? A fight to the death? Perhaps your Human friend will make a suitable challenger."

"You find this amusing?"

"No." Their conversation had strayed far from the direction he'd intended. On his way to her home, he'd calculated the possible outcomes and kunut kalifee had never entered his mind at the time.

But even that did not matter. He understood how connected T'Pol was to her homeworld and her culture just as any other Vulcan. A marriage with a Human would be a mistake and under the circumstances, there was no question what had to be done. "Call a challenger if you wish. I'll do whatever's necessary."

"It's best if you leave."

The conversation had become almost unsalvageable and Koss contemplated all of the benefits that their union would provide and decided on one that even T'Pol, in her compromised state, could understand. "I may be able to help your mother."

"What do you mean?"

A sign that it had piqued her curiosity was promising and Koss continued, "My father could have her reinstated."

"She retired."

T'Pol's response disappointed him as he wondered whether this was yet another example of her affliction and compromised mental state, he was practically certain of at this point. "She was asked to resign," he responded with the truth before considering the situation thoroughly.

"Why?" T'Pol seemed genuinely surprised and Koss finally realized that it was not T'Pol's state of mind but perhaps she was misled into believing the official statements rather than the hidden truth.

Not only did the conversation between them become completely unsalvageable, but Koss had stepped into the miscommunication between mother and daughter. The strained relationship between him and his betrothed was nothing compared to what he'd just stumbled into. "I've said more than I should," he lamented.

A feeble attempt to skirt the issue of her mother, Koss continued with the issue between them. "If we were to marry, you would only have to live on Vulcan for one year. You could resume your career with Starfleet after that."

"Is that what you want? An absent wife?"

"I'd want you to be happy," he said and chastised himself quietly for using such a word as "happy." But he could not be faulted completely under the circumstances.

"You should go," were her final words to him. Koss agreed. His intent in their conversation was to display how beneficial their marriage would be for her. He failed miserably and in the process perhaps increased strife between mother and daughter. As well, he was rapidly losing his focus. Koss left T'Pol's family grounds quietly.

**_April 29, 2154._**  
T'Pol and Koss sat across the room from his parents as the two sat on opposite ends of the same bench. He did not find the social chasm between them agreeable but believed marriage, and time, would resolve that.

T'Les stood in the corner of the room and watched all involved. Her eyes continually focused on T'Pol as though she expected her daughter to behave irrationally at any moment.

"You should remain on Vulcan," his mother said before sipping her tea.

"Am I to simply relinquish my responsibilities, my career?" T'Pol asked them, her eyes glanced his way then focused on her mother for a long moment before returning her attention to his parents.

"That Human ship? You wish to continue to serve aboard their ship and under their command?" his father asked her, but the tone was more of a chastisement than a question.

T'Pol's mouth opened to answer but Koss spoke before she could. "I do not wish for T'Pol to end her career aboard the ship. Her work has been vital, not only for Earth, but for many worlds, including Vulcan, as we've learned from their Xindi mission."

His parent fell silent and T'Pol stared at him. Her eyes, a little softer than before, caused his body to warm instantly.

"One year," his mother said sternly, glancing at her son. T'Les responded before T'Pol or Koss could.

"I believe this is a fair amount of time, although I would suggest we allow T'Pol to meditate before answering."

His father's eyes were hard, harder than Koss had ever seen them before. They bounced from T'Pol to T'Les and back. "Very well. One day of meditation and we will continue this discussion."

Without another word to their guests, his parents left the main room of their apartment, and T'Les left after agreeing to meet T'Pol back at their home.

T'Pol remained in the room but seemed apprehensive to state why until finally she spoke to him in a quiet tone. "Thank you. I appreciate your acceptance of my career."

Koss wanted to move closer, tempted to touch her skin, but it was a stray, irrational desire he quelled immediately.

"'Thank you' is unnecessary. Furthermore, I find your achievements exemplary and should not be hindered."

There was something in her eyes as she stared at him for a long moment. Whatever it was, Koss hoped it would be the foundation on which they could build their relationship. That is, until she spoke again.

"I have only accepted the marriage for the benefit of my mother. It is important that you understand this..." she hesitated in mid sentence before continuing, "...but this is not because of you. I believe you would make a suitable husband for a woman that wishes to marry."

Koss refrained from responding. He knew the truth and there was no need for them to speak of it. This had something to do with her Human, a fact that only solidified his belief that T'Pol was mentally unstable.

**_May 6, 2154._**  
After their wedding ceremony, it was tradition for the new couple to spend their meditation retreat together. But after the priest ended his last chant over the kneeling couple and their connected fingers separated, T'Pol waited for Koss to stand with her alone and informed him of something Koss had half expected.

"I have reserved my own chamber in the sanctuary," she whispered to him. "I'm sorry. I cannot initiate a sexual relationship with you, yet," she finished but the last word stuck in her throat as though she fought it.

Blood rushed throughout his body and flooded his brain in seconds. He felt light-headed, he felt rage, he felt hopelessness.

He watched T'Pol walk away from him and fought the urge to force her to stay. Fantasies of grabbing her arms to bring her back to him, connecting his fingers to her face, and forcing his body on hers filled his mind, and it sickened him. Yet something ugly, deep within, reveled in the idea.

It was that something inside him that necessitated their quick union. The appalling thing inside him fought him for control of his body and mind and grew more unmanageable with every passing day.

And his path to salvation was denied him. The woman that was to save him from madness, and eventual death, wanted nothing to do with him. He could not even find release with his... wife.

This was the time where he could feel his emotions roiling almost uncontrollably. Under ancient law, as her husband it was within his right to take her under the circumstances. But his stomach lurched at the thought and instead, he chose the more humiliating alternative before the distasteful side of him gained control.

**_May 7, 2154._**  
T'Pol's Human left Vulcan but there was something of the man left behind.

Koss no longer believed T'Pol's decisions were the product of mental instability. In his mind, Koss was certain it was the Human male that caused T'Pol to distance herself from tradition, from him.

But for Koss, that was unimportant at the moment. Hooded, he made his through the ancient entrance carved into the mountain and up the steps, carved and polished flawlessly. He'd never believed he would have to visit this place and tried desperately to keep his face concealed and in shadows.

Their purpose at this sacred place was never spoken of in public, and all who visited never spoke of their experience. So, Koss was not sure what to expect as he took his shameful steps to the top of the staircase where a woman stood, waiting for him.

She was a much older woman, her hair graying and elaborately styled, her body covered with the simplest of material clasped over both shoulders.

"Welcome, visitor," she greeted him solemnly. "Please, follow me."

* * *

Instructed to do so by a small female the elder priestess had called G'Sar, Koss entered a chamber the youth gestured toward. Slowly, he opened the door and had to stay his nerves that were yet another casualty of his ever increasing lack of emotional control.

Unlike any other time of rational behavior where his instincts were left in check, this time, Koss struggled to fight the desire to rush out of the temple.

At the other end of the room, a woman stood to meet him. Her clothing was a simple garment similar to the elder woman's clothing and her long, dark hair fell down to her waist.

"Are you-" he started to ask but was interrupted when she raised her hand to him.

"Come," she beckoned him to her, and he did so as though he no longer had any control of his body. Her eyes studied him, searching for something specific until finally she held her hand to his face gently.

It was an intimate caress that made him feel uncomfortable. "Close your eyes."

He did as he was told and when she spoke again, it was a familiar voice. Snapping his eyes open, Koss no longer saw the priestess and her long hair but a woman with short, brown hair and dressed in purple wedding attire.

Involuntarily, Koss jumped away from her, pushing her away from him as well.

"This is what you want. I sensed that, Koss," she said to him with the sound of T'Pol's voice formed with T'Pol's lips.

"No!" he cried out in fury. It was his revulsion to the situation fueled by the imbalance in his body. Although his body wanted her with every muscle, with every vein, Koss still had enough of his senses that he could not be fooled completely. To proceed would violate the last vestige of dignity he held to. However, his increasingly irrational mind could not fathom what that violation was exactly.

Trying desperately to restore some semblance of dignity, Koss stood tall and rigidly as though he hadn't just lost control of his emotions. "I cannot," he said simply after he managed to calm himself to an acceptable level.

The illusion of T'Pol melted back to the priestess who seemed more than a little confused. So was he. It was very much what he longed for, what he wanted for so long, but he could not go through with it. The last of his sanity held to the belief that it was not appropriate.

The priestess nodded. "It is commendable that you respect your wife, even under the circumstances," she said. "It is unfortunate that you cannot have your wife help you through this difficult time, just as it is unfortunate that she has chosen a Human."

Koss felt his tentative control slipping again, offended that she searched his thoughts so effortlessly.

"But you have a thirst that must be quenched, and we are running out of time," she said as she unfastened the clasps of her gown and approached him slowly. The garment slid from her skin and rippled through the air like smoke to the floor.

"I am here," she told him in a voice that his befogged brained had trouble discerning. It was the voice of the priestess but it reverberated throughout his body as though it were T'Pol's. "And I want you now."

He was confused by what he was seeing, hearing, feeling, but not so much that he stopped her from sliding her arms around his neck. Koss felt his instincts overwhelm his reason. It took only seconds for his body to respond to her touch as he wrapped his arms around her small frame and drew her to him hungrily.

That thing inside him, that basic, primal thing, awakened fully and would accept nothing less than to have what his body wanted. Before the last vestiges of his lucidity slipped into the darkness of the chamber, Koss was satisfied with the thought that he had not failed his promise to protect her, even, as it turned out, from himself.

**_November 12, 2154._**  
The notice sat on the screen for several minutes before Koss could pry his eyes away from it: an official notice that his marriage with T'Pol had been dissolved.

A month before, he'd tried one last time to convince his wife to accept their marriage. A favor managed by his father, Koss boarded _Enterprise_ while it orbited Vulcan. His reason was to give his wife a family heirloom from her mother, but it was also to try one last time.

She would not touch him, she barely greeted him, and it didn't take long to realize she would maintain her distance from him until obligations insisted otherwise.

That was not what he wanted. It was never what he wanted from T'Pol. No longer irrational from the effects of pon-farr, Koss was ready to do what he should have done long ago.

The death of T'Les was the excuse he required to appease his parents, and he immediately began the process to dissolve their marriage. One last visit to _Enterprise_, long enough to inform T'Pol of his intention, was the most he could do for her.

Although he wished to be the one to comfort her in her loss, the release from their marriage had to be enough. Perhaps it would free her to be comforted by her Human.

After a few taps of the console, the official notice had been forwarded to T'Pol. Koss stared at the message in front of him.

"Message sent successfully."

"Good bye, T'Pol," he whispered to the screen.


	10. Father: Koss's Story, pt3

_**January 22, 2155.**_  
The news was only less than two days old and had spread throughout the galaxy. Koss could not help but marvel at the hypocrisy of his people as they buzzed about the news while quick to display their disdain for other species' propensity for gossip.

Once more, T'Pol was at the center of this controversy. She always seemed to be somewhere in the center of Vulcan controversy.

But this was beyond mere gossip. According to the information from his father's colleague, T'Pol was an unwitting mother to a hybrid child cloned from stolen genetic material. And what was worse, the child had died of genetic complications only three days after her discovery.

Essentially, T'Pol had lost a child and had lost her mother in the span of four months. Koss wished he could help her somehow. He wished he could ease her pain that she undoubtedly masked with calm logic.

There was very little he could do. He was not her husband, and he was not her colleague or friend. He was just someone that cared, perhaps a little more than he should. At least after her mother's death, he'd found a way to help her by designing her mother's tomb. It was a small, unnoticed gesture that he hoped would help her somehow.

He'd heard T'Pol and her human were considering entombing their child on Vulcan. During his next visit to Central High Command, Koss decided he would request designing the child's tomb next to her grandmother.

_**April 24, 2155.**_  
Koss read the electronic message again. This was his fifth time reading it and still could not glean her intention.

T'Pol requested his presence at what was once her mother's home.

Although Koss was absolutely certain his outward appearance was appropriately unemotional, his thoughts raced beyond his control. T'Pol's Human had come back with an unusual tale to tell, but what surprised Koss the most was that the Human was actually proposing marriage between the three of them.

T'Pol's Human was an annoyance for sure, but what the Human was proposing was something that Koss had given up hope for months ago.

_**April 30, 2155.**_  
The priestess, Chaali, had shown him where to place his fingers. It was a modified arrangement of the traditional physical connection between spouses and as the elder woman stood there, Koss could not bring himself to connect his fingers to T'Pol and her Human.

Unlike his mental state during his first marriage with T'Pol, Koss was in complete control of his mind and body. During that tumultuous time, such an arrangement would have been unthinkable, but now his mind raced with the calculations and possibilities of such a union, just as he had after the proposal.

In six years, he would have to endure his _pon farr_ once again. When she was his wife, before, she refused to share her bed. Would this time be different? Would she help him or would he be left alone... again? Looking at the two of them standing together, Koss could not honestly say she would.

His eyes fell to each face standing near him and Koss almost reconsidered the arrangement, but when his eyes focused on T'Pol, he only saw those wide, brown eyes staring at him years ago.

Quietly, he took his place, holding his fingers to theirs and accepting a future with T'Pol and her... the Human. Chaali began the ceremony in Vulcan and Koss wondered if the Human understood anything of what the priestess said.

_**September 13, 2155.**_  
Koss had always been aware of the possibility that he would be needed, but he never considered it would take the form of what had happened.

He knew what was expected of a husband during the time of his wife's pregnancy, but T'Pol seemed not as affected by her own needs as Vulcans would expect. He thought that perhaps the bond between her and her... the Human was strong enough to overcome such urges. Or perhaps her extensive meditation would help her through the time.

But the previous night, she had awakened him and lavished attention to his body. His first inclination was to refuse her. She did not come to him in reason, but she came to him impulsively, instinctually.

In the end, he could not refuse her. It was his duty as her husband, as the only husband she had available.

The next morning, he found himself alone in his bed once more.

His body had been used as nothing more than a tool to sate her needs. His emotions were harder to control as he tried to reconcile what he wanted, what was, and what should be. His mind had been stripped bare somehow and open and vulnerable to T'Pol.

Koss lifted himself up to a sitting position and inhaled deeply before rubbing his face to wake himself, then exhaled.

Although legally she was his wife, Koss resigned himself to the knowledge that T'Pol was not his and would never be, but this was unbearable. She was with him everyday and now he had to endure her guarded intimate touch.

Even though he understood his role in their union and that what transpired the previous night was necessary, he felt used, discarded, wounded.

She was meditating, communicating with the Human through their bond and he was uncertain how he knew this.

He inhaled again, but this time his mind registered the scent of her in his bed and Koss had to leave his room, he had to walk. How far? He wasn't sure.

_**January 25, 2156.**_  
When the Human returned for the birth, any little intimacy between Koss and T'Pol disappeared as she focused on the Human and the baby.

There was nothing more for him to do than to return the house to its normal arrangement and wonder what his place was in this family. He seemed inconsequential.

In her bed, he found the Human... _their_ Human mate curled behind T'Pol with his hands around her waist and T'Pol curled around their newborn. They did not seem to require anything, and that fact only highlighted his uselessness in the marriage.

At first, his mind was preoccupied with his own thoughts until the small bundle in T'Pol's arms wriggled and gurgled softly.

T'Mir was so tiny and seemed so fragile, and Koss knelt beside the bed to get a closer look at her.

Unlike her exhausted parents, T'Mir did not sleep. In fact, she was becoming more restless in T'Pol's arms and Koss was sure a full cry would be imminent. After wiping his hands with a disinfecting towel, he carefully scooped the child from the bed and left the room.

She quieted in his arms as he took her into the central area of the house. T'Mir. Although she was not his reason why he'd agreed to the marriage in the first place, she had instantly become one.

Her blue eyes stared back at him sleepily as he bounced her in his arms, something he'd seen the Denobulan doctor do. And quietly, he made the same promise he'd made to his wife so long ago.

"I'll protect you, Little One."

_**April 13, 2156.**_  
He would have preferred to spend the day elsewhere, but he and T'Pol agreed to visit his parents. They insisted on seeing their grandchild. Koss knew better.

His father opened the door for them and it framed the center area of his parents' apartment. Seated at the main table, his mother poured tea.

"Please have a seat," she offered them after they entered, and Koss and T'Pol took seats at the table.

His father walked by them, not making any effort to hide that he was curious about the baby.

"Your third mate is not here. The invitation was extended for your entire family," his father said before taking a seat next to his mother.

"Father, I'm certain you are aware of our..." Koss had to stop himself from saying the word "Human," then continued, "mate's occupation. It does keep him from us for long periods of time."

"Yes, Sulor informed us of your... unique marriage. Such a private ceremony for a highly unusual arrangement appears clandestine, Koss."

"Mother, it is a legal marriage, if that is what you are implying. Three representatives from each family and a recognized priestess present."

His mother rose from her chair and walked to their side of the table. Koss knew what they wanted to know and his mother was about to find out. But what they cared about was little concern to what he cared about.

When she reached T'Pol, his mother bent to look at the infant in his wife's arms, "As I suspected. This is not your child."

"It was never said that she was."

"And why is it that you had entered this union?" his father asked them.

There it was, out in the open. The only reason why his parents had pushed for his union with T'Pol was for their descendent to be her first born.

And now that it was confirmed not to be the case, they certainly had no use for the union.

"We found it beneficial for all parties involved," T'Pol answered, her eyes locked on his mother's as there seemed to be a quiet power struggle between the two.

"Did you?" his father asked him and Koss nodded.

"What was the true purpose of this visit, Father?"

His father stood from his chair, "Must we require a reason to see our son?"

It was then that Koss had had enough. He'd spent many years enduring these mental games they insisted on playing and had no intention of subjecting his wife and daughter to them. He stood and grasped T'Pol's shoulder firmly, signaling her that it was time to depart.

"When you can accept that my offspring will not be a pawn in your political aspirations, then we can establish a relationship as parents and child."

With that, he ushered T'Pol, carrying T'Mir in her arms, out of the door and out of his parents' apartment.

_**November 22, 2161.**_  
When they'd moved to Earth, Koss felt his control slipping in the barest degree and it was enough of a hint to know it was starting.

_Pon farr_ was the unpredictable element in a Vulcan's life, but the only surety one could have was that it had to be resolved, one way or another.

The time to broach the subject with their Human mate and T'Pol never seemed appropriate until he was forced to. Koss chose to meditate to keep his emotions in check. But it wasn't enough, and T'Pol did notice.

In truth, he believed she would not help him... again. To his surprise, she returned to his room and initiated the contact of a couple. She held her two fingers out and waited.

The logical course for him to take was unclear as he realized that he allowed _pon farr_ to progress further than he had before.

He pressed his fingers against hers and Koss felt the connection between them hum.

And he felt that, with Trip's acceptance, T'Pol was not averse to be with him.

It was the first time they'd shared this intimate connection alone, without Trip, the first time it was Koss and T'Pol. And even though she did not look at him the way she did with their Human mate and even with his mind in the compromised state that it was, he appreciated that she came to him willingly. She cared for him, if not loved him.

Harmony in the household was strained in the days following. Their Human mate required time to adjust but the unspoken strain was waiting.

Although_ pon farr_ was a mating drive, there were many factors that contributed to whether a female would conceive.

He loved T'Mir. He loved her as his own child, but the news that T'Pol was not pregnant deflated the bit of hope he'd nursed that there would be that one enduring thread between him and T'Pol.

Disheartened, Koss resigned himself to a future of inconsequence. But it was then that T'Pol and their Human mate reached out to him together. It was then that they communicated through the bond unguarded, hidden, and controlled emotions.

Koss continued to walk with his mates and daughter through the trail he and T'Mir had walked several times before. But this time, as Trip explained which trees were found in his native region and which were not, Koss felt his longing for the homeplace that was no more. It was intimate access into the Human man's mind, something both T'Pol and Trip had been doing lately.

And in return, Koss allowed his own barriers, some of them, to ease as he shared a warm thought that their family was more home to him than anything on Vulcan.

**_May 1, 2165._**  
Although they rarely returned to Vulcan, there were certain events that required their family to return to the desert planet. The birth of T'Pau's first child was definitely one of them.

As a Vulcan, she was the closest to a family friend as they could have.

T'Mir fawned over the newborn, making it abundantly clear that she was soothing the ache of having no sibling to lavish such affection upon.

The attention she displayed over the infant allowed for the adults to discuss the current problems on Vulcan after the formation of the Federation.

T'Pau and her husband, Skon, informed them of two Romulan spies found among the population, and the intelligence gleaned during their interrogation.

It was disturbing to learn of a growing alliance between the Klingons and Romulans. It was even more disturbing to learn that the Klingons grew restless for conquest.

T'Mir left the child in the cradle and walked up to Koss. Quietly, she placed her head on his shoulder and ignored the disapproving looks that both Skon and T'Pau had given her.

To shift the focus, T'Pol began a more relaxed conversation, "Does Sarek sleep through the night?"

Any excuse to discuss her new son without breaching etiquette was taken by a new Vulcan mother, and T'Pau was no different. "Yes," she answered. Although her response was as emotionless as any other time, her face glowed with interest. "He is quite a peaceful child."

_**April 6, 2171. Now.**_  
Char'les stood wide-eyed and called for Trip to wake up. He fell to his knees and his tiny hands worked to push the man awake and tears streamed down his cheek when Trip didn't move. It was some comfort to Koss to know that there was life left in him, at least that's what he sensed.

Fortunately, he had heard and felt T'Pol come toward them. He couldn't see her behind him but he knew, nonetheless, what she was doing. He guessed T'Pol charged T'Mir with returning Char'les to the cave while he heard her pulling their husband's motionless body away.

"Koss!" she called for him to come with her and he did, but did so step by step backwards. Koss was not going to let these brutes injure his family further.

At the cave, Koss stopped at the door. He knew what had to be done and it was up to him. There was such little time to put his plan into action and quickly he rushed to T'Pol as she stood from Trip's motionless body, the wound now stabilized.

He held out his two fingers and T'Pol drew in her eyebrows, perhaps questioning the timing of such an act. Ultimately, she connected her fingers to his. Her eyes were so much the way they'd been the first time they'd met, wide and curious and full of inner strength. It was his reminder that this was the correct thing to do.

Koss ended their connection just as quickly as he initiated it. But it was long enough to convey just what he'd intended. T'Pol opened her mouth to object and her hand reached out to grab him but a blast ended that quickly.

He was ready for her dissent; his other hand adjusted the settings of his phaser to stun while they connected.

T'Mir held Char'les tightly and stared. Koss quickly knelt beside them and took T'Mir's face in his hands. Their eyes locked and he hoped it was enough for her to know that he loved her as his own.

He then did the same for Char'les and whether it was the influence of his Human mate or simply no longer saw the need to restrain himself, he smiled at both of them fully before standing and leaving.

The sounds of heavy footsteps and guttural voices grew louder and Koss left the cave, closed the door and adjusted his phaser to the highest setting. He shot at the outer edge of the cave's mouth until several boulders dropped down and hid the entrance from view.

Quickly, Koss raced away from crumbled opening of the cave, but made certain that the Klingons would see him and follow.

The pursuing Klingons gained ground and Koss found himself in the valley of two small hills. Unfortunately, the Klingons came from all sides and surrounded him.

His phaser drained, he assumed a defensive posture, but that was unnecessary.

A blast later, his back sizzled and his body fell forward. He felt his consciousness, his life, slipping away in milliseconds. His mind slipped into images of T'Pol and her big, brown eyes staring at him with the innocence and hidden fire of her childhood. T'Mir and the brightest times of his life walking with her, father and daughter. Char'les, his son, his blood, his gift of an enduring tie to T'Pol. Trip, his mate, his hope that he could substitute as father as Koss had done for him.

With his last breath, he exhaled, "My family."

* * *

**This is the end of the story and is now set to complete. Please see author profile for info.**


End file.
